Guardian
by Catsitta
Summary: After 500 years and his share of tribulation, Cloud Strife stands as the immortal guardian of human kind. Will a prayer answered and a crisis' emergence give rise to the only thing he ever desired? CloudxSephiroth. Alternate Universe. M-PREG. Dark.
1. Prologue

**READ AUTHOR'S NOTE BEFORE CONTINUING! **

**A/N: **Alright, for starters, this is CloudxSephiroth story with a touch of other pairings. It is also set post Dirge of Cerberus era. Why is it that I wanted to read this before hand? Well, because it is important that you know a couple other things. For one, this is not going to start out a very happy tale. Nothing overly graphic or morbid (yet) but perhaps disturbing. Also, this is exploring a malexmale relationship, so if that is not your cup of tea, this is not your kind of story. And finally, my last and perhaps most daunting of warnings is that this will possibly (more than likely) include male pregnancy. Why? 'Cause I have a strange liking for those kinds of stories and I decided to try writing one myself.

But, if it is any consolation, this is actually going to have a purpose, a journey and a plot focusing on other elements aside from said pregnancy. It was, to my disappointment, rather difficult to find a story whose focus was not entirely on that one element. So, I'm giving it a shot.

Feel free to ask any questions you might have (though this early on they might prove to spoil the surprise) and feedback is very much enjoyed.

An 'I like' or 'I dislike' is better than nothing. I thrive off of the commentary of my reviewers, and am open to suggestions and ideas.

**Rating (Chapter): T **

**Words: 1,100 (I know, super short, but chapters should be longer from here on out)**

**Summary: **Living forever is a blessing and a curse, one that strips away everything that once defined you. After 500 years and his share of tribulation, Cloud Strife stands as the immortal guardian of human kind. Will a prayer answered and a crisis' emergence, give rise to the only thing he ever desired? CloudxSephiroth. Alternate Universe. M-PREG. Dark.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters; I am merely abusing them for my entertainment and for the entertainment of others.

**Guardian**

**By Catsitta**

**Prologue**

One could say it all began with the end.

The end of a life. The end of an era. The end of chaos, war and Jenova.

When the Planet's chosen champion fell to his knees amidst the frozen wastes of the Northern Crater.

Cloud Strife, the harried hero thrice over, lay witness to the great wound from which the Lifestream bled. The Planet's pain echoed in his ears and with a ragged breath, he begged for answers, prayed for resolution, cried out for everything to make sense again. Only the wind answered, whispering nonsense in his ears, the cold biting at exposed skin.

Ten years had passed since the WEAPONS' awakening and humankind was sent into a desperate struggle for survival. Cities were obliterated, reduced to nothing more than warped steel framework and broken glass. Nations were divided, their populations beyond repair. Governments crumbled. Humans fell back unto their roots, memories of their previous lives seeming all too distant of dreams.

Yet that was not why Cloud came here.

After everything he went through, fought for, and all the people he loved and lost—he found himself barely clinging to the threads of his humanity. It all began so subtly—his lack of aging, his slow retreat into isolation, his growing cold and indifferent towards the nightmares that once plagued him. Now, after ten years, he realized what was happening…what he was doing to himself, what he had let the Planet do to him.

"Why?" He pleaded, his voice hoarse,"Why did you do this to me?"

Again, there came no answer.

Blue eyes tainted with mako shine, the champion of Gaia grasped the pommel of First Tsurugi, a complicated fusion-blade of his own design—made from the very WEAPONS that Gaia used to ravage the human population—and let out a wordless cry. With a single, fluid motion, Cloud sent the sword flying through the air. The blade whistled as it spun, its carefully tended edge singing as it did in the midst of battle. He watched as his finest creation, the mark of his trials and triumphs, disappeared into the murky haze. Then, he listened. Sure enough, First Tsurugi landed in the exposed Lifestream with a 'splash'…And everything fell dead silent.

Let Gaia have the sword. Let Her have the stolen pieces from her WEAPONS' corpses. Let Her reclaim the last remnants of Her protectors. She could keep it. She could have anything She wanted from him, if She would just let him go. Let him age. Let him be human…Let him die.

Cloud swallowed a sob of anger. It was bad enough that Sephiroth took almost everything from him during his rampage. It was bad enough that Cloud lost his memories and spent a year living the life of a dead man. It was bad enough that his hometown burned…that he lost countless friends to a war that never should have been fought. It was bad enough that the woman he once loved and dreamed about at night, left him because he could not prevent himself from chasing her away. It was bad enough that his body was scarred with reminders of why he could never be normal…never have a family…never have a life to call his own.

But, now, the Planet was asking of him too much. She was turning him into one of Her eternal protectors…a WEAPON. Cloud could feel the pulse of the Lifestream beneath him...hear the heartbeat of the world within his mind. His blood was slowly converting into mako—with every drop lost in battle, his humanity slipped further away.

"Why?" Again, the question slipped from his lips and once again, the Planet offered no answer. Cloud threw back the hood that concealed his face and the dark cloak billow out behind him as a frosty gust whipped past. He was beyond caring about how the cold nipped his skin raw, or how tangled his blond hair would become. Cloud stood his full height and spread his arms wide, as if to embrace the chilling gale.

Beneath the protection of his cloak was a uniform, old and tattered, stained with blood and crimson memories. A sleeveless, cobalt turtleneck; long, dark pants; two wide belts and a single metal pauldron held in place by crisscrossing leather straps. Before he became the Planet's champion—Cloud was a SOLDIER…Or at least, that is what he believed himself to be. This uniform was all that remained of SOLDIER First Class Zack Fair, his best friend, mentor and for whom he kept on living—to become his legacy and a hero.

It was a dark day when Cloud learned that he was never anything more than a trooper. A nameless, faceless grunt…cannon fodder. The realization nearly broke his resolve, but after so many had made sacrifices to help him he knew that there was no turning back. But now, the cloth, leather and steel represented nothing more than his desperate struggle to maintain childish bonds. He was never a SOLDIER and with the old ShinRa gone, youthful dreams were all but smoke and ashes—replaced with pessimism older than the body that contained it.

He should let go, had to let go at some point, but this was his last stand and he needed all the strength (real or imagined) he could muster.

Cloud closed his eyes and began to walk forwards.

With the wind and fog wrapping him in a chilling shroud, it was difficult for him to feel anything aside from numbness. Despite the ache that old wounds always wrought within his bones and flesh, Cloud felt insubstantial…detached. He refused to be the Planet's plaything. While an ounce his humanity remained, he would fight for his resolution…his chance at an end…his chance at peace.

Turning up his face towards the clouded sky above, the blond swordsman continued his trek, slow and steady, through the snow and ice that gathered nearly knee-high. What could have seconds, minutes or even hours later, Cloud felt a wave of warmth caress his face, smelling of flowers and loam—radiating the promise of life as well as death.

Without opening his eyes, Cloud took one more steps forwards.

It came as no surprise when liquid met the bottom of his boot, giving way beneath his weight, pitching him forwards into its depths.

Cloud let out a scream of pure agony, once immersed in raw mako. The unrefined blood of the Planet stripped him of his flesh until all that remained were his memories. At last, he was at peace…At last, he had found his end.

At least, that is what he believed.

000**TBC**000

**A/N: ( Did you all enjoy? And yes, I know it is short and perhaps a little abrupt at the end, but it is a prologue. Chapters should get longer from here on out, though, it simply depends. Most of my stories usually range between 3,000 to 5,000 in word count per chapter, but, I may be a little more relaxed with this and just post however much feels right.**

**So, please review and keep in mind that this is only the beginning. A little mystery and question is a good thing. **

**For readers of 'Fourth Time's the Charm': The next chapter will be out soon.)**


	2. Chapter One

**I would like to thank everyone who reviewed or added this story to their alerts and/or favorites! Thank you so much, it is you who keeps me writing, and (in case you hadn't noticed) the more response I get back, the faster these updates become. **

**A/N: **Ah, installment two…A tiny bit longer than the first, but then again, I'm only writing one scene at a time. Hehe. Perhaps I'll stop being lazy and write these longer at some point, but these short chapters are rather relaxing. So, whatever comes to mind and flows onto the page is what will get written.

**SPECIAL NOTE(S): **This story will be heavier in the ways of original characters, but hopefully not glaringly so. There are a few special ones that will come into play. Other, familiar characters will be introduced later, but before I can get to the action and plot, I want to set the scene and show a glimpse of Cloud's journey before the 'big crisis' emerges and all that. So, the next few chapters will follow him through the years before the start of the true plotline.

Enjoy, and keep an open mind.

An 'I like' or 'I dislike' is better than nothing. I thrive off of the commentary of my reviewers, and am open to suggestions and ideas.

**Rating (Chapter): T**

**Words: **1,510 (still short, but hey, longer than the last one)

**Summary: **Living forever is a blessing and a curse, one that strips away everything that once defined you. After 500 years and his share of tribulation, Cloud Strife stands as the immortal guardian of human kind. Will a prayer answered and a crisis' emergence, give rise to the only thing he ever desired? CloudxSephiroth. Alternate Universe. M-PREG. Dark.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters; I am merely abusing them for my entertainment and for the entertainment of others.

**Guardian**

**By Catsitta**

**Chapter one**

She was tall, ebon-haired and prideful. A woman without morals, they said, for no one who disappeared at night as often as she, could be up to any good. Little did they realize that her attentions were not of lustful nature, but that of a healer.

Amarissa found him unconscious, nude and burning with fever. The heat rolled off the blond man's body in waves and, at first, she doubted he would live through the night, but now, after three weeks, she wondered if he would ever wake. Each night she would visit him in the little stone steeple in which he slept. It had been difficult to drag his body away from the toxic river her people learned to avoid, on whose banks he had first lain. But the young woman could not leave him there to die; such thoughts went against her nature.

Now, after many sleepless nights sitting by his bedside—if one could call a stone pew a bed—Amarissa found herself completely absorbed by the stranger she rescued. Every moment spent near him, every brush of her fingers against pallid, clammy skin, every delirious, muttered word he uttered in his slumber—it all drew her in.

Questions plagued her at first: _Who is he? What is his name? Where is he from? Did he fall in the river? How did he get those scars?_

Then, as the weeks went by, her frantic thoughts were replaced by an eerie sense of peace and calm. Perhaps it was because she could sit and speak with him from dusk until dawn and he would merely listen, never judging or presuming, or speaking out of turn. He never once was unkind nor did he strike her. Yes, the blond was unconscious, but in his silence, Amarissa found voice. It was common in the secluded village, from which she hailed, for women to be battered and beaten for being outspoken or insightful. It was a cruel fact of life that many came to accept, though why, she was uncertain, but she dared not tread too loudly or speak her thoughts when among the men folk.

Once again at the man's side, Amarissa watched him sleep. At least he was peaceful for now, sometimes his face would contort with pain and fear when terrors invaded his perpetual state of dream. It made her heart ache to see his beautiful, ethereally innocent features distorted. She was not sure why especially since she knew nothing about him. As far as anyone new, this pretty stranger could be a malicious murderer or lecherous predator. But, as she watched him sleep, none of those worries came to mind and even if they did, they would not matter.

Nothing mattered. Nothing at all. She could easily die a happy woman if she could spend the rest of her life just watching him sleep, and speaking to him as she dared not to anyone else. Why? Amarissa did not know and while in the steeple, she had no reason to care.

Many men and women in her village spoke of finding peace within oneself by finding one's purpose in the world and finding harmony with said purpose. Perhaps this was Amarissa's purpose, her destiny…

Closing her eyes, the ebon-haired healer sent out a prayer to whichever divine guided her to the blond's side. She did so every night. Sometimes, it felt as if the divine replied to her call, gracing her senses with the faint scent of flowers and upturned soil, and a melodic, wordless whisper that swore had to be song. It was possible Amarissa was losing her sanity, but that was difficult to believe when she had never felt so sane in her life.

"…Let him wake from his dreams…his fevered sleep. Let him open his eyes and see the world 'gain. I pray to thee, I beg of thee, let this troubled soul return to the mortal plane. Please…" Her words were soft, barely audible even in the near silence of the room. But if the divine were as powerful as her elders claim, no matter how softly spoken, all prayers would be heard. Caught in the depths of her routine, Amarissa did not notice when two eyes of mako-tainted blue slid open and focused on her face.

Only when her prayers were done and she thanked the divine for listening, did she let her own eyes open. Amarissa gasped and stared at the now conscious blond laying before her, still clad in nothing save for the thin blanket she laid across his form. He did not blink, nor move, nor speak. Merely, he watched her with a distant gaze that left her wondering if the man was actually seeing her or if he was still trapped in the realm of dreams.

Carefully, the ebon-haired healer reached out and touched the blond's damp cheek. Again, he did nothing.

"You are awake…I am quite thankful. My name is Amarissa, might you share a name by which I may call you?" She chose her words carefully, hoping that the man spoke the same language as she. His eyes seemed to retreat from whatever far off place that captured his attention, and for the first time, the blond blink. It was a slow, languid movement—oddly thoughtful and carefully done.

Then, after a long time of silence and absolute stillness, the man's expression changed from that of surreal to one of solemnity. He shook his head before letting out a long, strained sigh. It was not but a heartbeat later that those perilous blue eyes rimmed with green were shut once again and his breathing returned to that of sleep.

Flooded with a mixture of emotion—Amarissa found her eyes brimming with tears.

"Thank you…" She whispered and the strangely musical whisper resonated briefly within her mind. Slowly, she rose to her feet and plucked her hand basket from the tiled floor. Tonight, she would offer a special burning to the divine, one that she saved for this very occasion. Tucked beneath cloth-wrapped parcels of food and a half-full waterskin, was a small bundle of reeds from lands far north, given to her by a worldly grandfather when she was but a child.

He told her many tales of the ice-laden wastes and how a river of the Planet's blood ran through the Northern Crater. The reeds grew on the banks of said river and were only form of plant life found in the area. It was hard to imagine a place white with frost after living her whole life surrounded by jungle. But the river her grandfather spoke of reminded Amarissa of the one that emerged only a handful of years ago, by which she found the blond man.

Letting the memories wash over her in a wave of warmth, Amarissa set the reed bundle in a small, stone dish that lay atop a crumbling alter. Suddenly, the bundle alit on its own accord, filling the shadowy room with soft light. Carefully, she let out a breath she had not realized she was holding. The very air seemed to hum with approval. Then, the melodic whisper returned, only this time, with it came clearly spoken words that sent shivers through her body. She knew right away that the divine was speaking to her…a mere woman…the elders said that the divine never spoke to the fairer sex. So why…?

_'Child of mine, you have proven your loyalty and your worth.'_ The words were both spoken and sung, it was as if a thousand voices, both male and female, were threaded together into one. Ancient, powerful, beautiful, vibrant and destructive—no human phrase could surmise the essence of what the divine said and how it was said. '_Take not my blessings lightly; I have been scorned afore, so embrace what gifts are given. Protect my son, child of mine, and my son will protect you, as is his nature. As is the nature of all my sons…my chosen…my guardians.'_

"Your…son? Guardian…Please, tell me what happened to him…why is he here? Why is it I who must—" Amarissa began, only to be silence by the divine's voice again.

_'His tale is his own to speak. His purpose is not of your concern.'_

"His name? Could you at least share his name?"

**'**_Names are but a human tie of which my son is no longer. He is my guardian, nothing less…nothing more…'_

The voice left her mind in a rush, leaving her feeling lightheaded and weak.

"Your guardian…" Amarissa murmured, glancing over her shoulder at the small blond. She recalled the faint scars that littered his body and how his lithe form was heavy with muscle, which was why he proved difficult to move here. "You are a warrior then? A divine protector of the Planet." The blond did not answer. A faint smile appeared on her lips,"This world needs a hero." Then, she moved away from the alter and picked up her basket.

Dawn was breaking on the horizon.

"Until tonight," she murmured before disappearing into the jungle outside.

**A/N: ( I hope the OC did not annoy my audience, but this chapter is setting up some really important details for later on in the story. You might be wondering: How many years has it been since Cloud walked into the lifestream? You'll learn that next chapter. Be warned, these early chapters will be full of time skips (big ones), but sooner than later thing will settle down. **

**Also, there are some significant culture and tech shifts that will unveil themselves soon. The futuristic world exists no longer, then again, humans are (or at least were) a dying race.**

**Again, thanks to everyone who has reviewed and who is going to review. Your feedback is very important to me. )**


	3. Chapter Two

**I would like to thank everyone who reviewed or added this story to their alerts and/or favorites! Thank you so much, it is you who keeps me writing, and (in case you hadn't noticed) the more response I get back, the faster these updates become. **

**A/N: **And, installment three!

Hm, I'm working very hard on 'Fourth Time's the Charm', 'Ghost of Wutai', and 'A Twist of Fate' but I keep getting stuck. Hn. Hopefully I'll get past those road blocks on my own…but, I know, worst comes to worst, I can bounce some ideas of a few people. Anywho, enjoy!

An 'I like' or 'I dislike' is better than nothing. I thrive off of the commentary of my reviewers, and am open to suggestions and ideas.

**Rating (Chapter): T (Blood, mild gore, brief violence)**

**Words: **1,804 (still short, but hey, longer than the last one)

**Summary: **Living forever is a blessing and a curse, one that strips away everything that once defined you. After 500 years and his share of tribulation, Cloud Strife stands as the immortal guardian of human kind. Will a prayer answered and a crisis' emergence, give rise to the only thing he ever desired? CloudxSephiroth. Alternate Universe. M-PREG. Dark.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters; I am merely abusing them for my entertainment and for the entertainment of others.

**Guardian**

**By Catsitta**

**Chapter two:**

The number of days and nights that passed after his awakening was unknown to him, but Cloud found himself not caring. Time no longer registered within his mind. The sun's rise and fall was but a marker of the Planet's turning. How long he remained upon the stone pew, still as the dead, eyes closed but mind awake, did not matter. Though, he knew for certain that his awareness of the physical had begun only a short time ago…more than a week, less than a year…So was this how it felt to realize one's immortality? This fatalistic feeling of futility—that no matter his efforts, all would lead down a single, unwinding path.

Cloud had begged the Planet to die and in an ironic manner of speaking, She granted his wish. His human body no longer existed. This…shell made of flesh, skin and bone did not belong to Cloud Strife, the forlorn hero that defeated the Calamity of the Skies and her son, Sephiroth. No, it was a form built of the blood of the Planet and carried in Her cavernous womb. This body belonged to a WEAPON. Only, his mind did not. No, inside, he was still the same man he was before his suicide, except said man had come to accept that killing himself was no longer an option.

But if his body belonged to a WEAPON and his mind to a human, did that mean he was even Cloud Strife anymore? WEAPONS did not have names. Humans gave them names, but by doing so, they changed nothing. Names were an obsession humans had because of the race's unique desire for distinction. Even the Cetra, the first people of the Planet, did not give as much care to names as humans for their connections to the Planet and their ancestors enlightened them to the truth—all things are connected.

In turn, the Cetra realized what things are connected through—the Lifestream (specifically)…the fluid river that churned beneath the Planet's surface made entirely of memories and life energy. When this fluid breaks the surface, the humans call it mako…the Cetra knew it to be liquid life itself thus it was they whom deemed it the Lifestream...and WEAPONS…WEAPONS bleed life energy instead of blood. And rather than die when gravely wounded, their bodies dissolve and return to the Planet's womb to be revived and rebuilt, before being either returned to the surface or sent to sleep until needed.

He shook his head. The blond knew that it was instinctual for one's mind to distract from thoughts that cause panic or pain. His severe identity crisis was one of those 'thoughts' that plagued him ever since the Nibelheim incident. Cloud shuddered at the hazy memories. Did they even belong to him? Was the Planet attempting to ease him of his grief and animosity towards himself? Or were these memories and broken, scattered trains of thought but trace reminders of who he used to be that refused to boil away in the Lifestream?

It was possible…after all, he knew things that he never once learned on his time spent upon the Planet's surface. Cloud learned of ancient, secret things. Of the true history of the world and its the powerful influence of both pure and wicked intentions. He learned so many things about humans, Cetra and WEAPONS that all the information skewed his troubled thoughts. At the slightest provocation, a flood of words, sights, feelings and sounds would crash upon him—Cloud had to be careful, lest he bring upon himself terrible headaches or nightmares. It was best to never question things, or a person's intentions. When he thought of nothing, questioned nothing, he could allow himself to drift to sleep and dream of nothing.

The only time where his thoughts felt clear, oddly enough, and his soul unburdened, was when the ebon-haired woman came to visit. Amarissa.

Cloud found himself watching the stranger with caution as well as interest. She would arrive with a woven basket in hand filled with various items: food, water, herbs, cloth, etcetera. And with a smile, Amarissa would set the basket down in the same place beside the same pew and kneel before the alter, dipping her head in prayer. Seeing her in those pose made a cold vice clamp about his heart. While it was impossible for there to be any relation, the woman reminded him of Aerith—the young, half-Cetra whom Cloud promised to protect, who sacrificed herself in order to summon Holy. Her death saved the lives of countless others from the terrible might of Meteor, but the memories of the emerald-eyed brunette brought upon him a terrible sense of loss…an ache that would remain hollow…foreboding.

Unfortunately, the similarities between Amarissa and Aerith did not end at the similar way the clasped their hands together to pray. The ebon-haired female possessed the same quiet, nurturing presence that Cloud found undeniably soothing as well as a penchant for chatter. For hours, he presumed, the young woman would talk to him, hands folded upon her lap, eyes lowered demurely… Only once had Cloud ever made direct eye contact with her, and the vivid, strikingly familiar blues revealed a complex net of pride, sorrow, anger, fear, joy, peace, curiosity and understanding.

For a brief time, Cloud wondered why someone so proud and strong would keep her posture so submissive. He learned quickly that this new era, over one-hundred years since the occurrence of Meteor, was obscenely primitive. Instead of progressing into an industrial re-revolution, the people of the world retrogressed into something comparable to the dark ages. The way Amarissa spoke, it sounded as if humans were terrified of technology and advanced sciences and that deep-rooted paranoia led to an 'Awakening' of religious faith.

With the Awakening, came old practices long since abandoned from Western culture. Men became the providers and heads' of their houses, and women and children were degraded to nothing more than property. This knowledge brought a bitter taste to Cloud's mouth. How could have this possibly happened in such a short amount of time?

So many questions burned and swirled inside his troubled mind and eventually the dam that restrained them did break.

"Amarissa," he began as the ebon-haired woman gathered her belongings, preparing to leave for home.

The young woman gasped and dropped the woven basket,"You can speak!" Her face was lit with delight…Another wrench of pain gripped his already aching heart. No…She was not Aerith. No matter the similarities, this woman was someone different.

"Amarissa," Cloud began again, his voice soft and patient,"Why do you return here each night?" It was not as if he needed nourishment or company. WEAPONS did not eat, nor drink nor truly sleep. The Planet's constant intrusion could be considered company enough for a loner such as himself.

"Because…I…you…" Amarissa seemed to trip over her words and her face fell at her own realization. "I don't know…" She eventually confessed,"I assume you do not need me to care for you. Your fever broke some time ago and…" There were tears sparkling at the corners of her downcast eyes.

Cloud frowned and slid from the pew on which he laid, for the most part, unmoving. Unbothered by his nudity, the blond warrior padded to the ebon-haired healer and cupped her face with one hand. His whole body felt weak from lack of use, but his muscles would never atrophy…such was another of Gaia's blessings. "Look at me," he commanded softly and when she shut her eyes, Cloud repeated the command more sharply. "I said: Look at me." Amarissa conceded, and most blue eyes fluttered open. "Never be afraid to look me in the eyes, Amarissa. I will not hurt you." _Intentionally,_ he added silently. "Now tell me: Why do you return here each night?"

"I…I come here because…because here I feel safe." She admitted, drawing back and Cloud let the woman move away. "Here I feel at peace. I feel as if I can be myself without scorn."

The tiniest of smiles tugged at the corners of Cloud's lips,"Good. Speak your mind, Amarissa. Keep your head high." She managed a weak smile before gathering her things and leaving the steeple.

When the next evening came, as it always did, the ebon-haired healer did not.

No did she return the night after…or the night after that.

Cloud waited, letting time wash over him, unmoving.

"Amarissa…" he murmured after the passing of countless dawns. Then, he rose from the stone pew on which he dreamt and fell to one knee before the alter. He closed his eyes and listened to the Lifestream, searching for a familiar voice. "She…is alive." Otherwise, he would hear her. "Where is she?" His curiosity was short lived.

A chilling scream cut through the air.

Acting upon instinct, the blond darted from the stone building, his mind rushing. He could feel his blood humming, his muscles trembling with excitement as well of panic. Too caught up in running and avoiding obstacles, Cloud barely noticed the swirl of green that wrapped around his body…leaving behind dark cloth and leather as it dissipated.

Heavy boots thudded rhythmically against the ground as he ran, the sound familiar and hypnotizing.

He did not stop running until he found the source of the scream. His breath caught in his throat and his blood ran cold.

There, leaning heavily against a broad-leafed tree, hands wrapped about her middle, was Amarissa. Her ebon hair, cut ragged and significantly shorter than he remembered, hung over her face, sticking to pale, bloodied cheeks. Looming above her like a menacing beast, was a brutish man with red, fleshy face and meaty fists. "Little, adulterous slut!" The man snarled, his hand shooting out to grip Amarissa's throat,"No denying it now. I saw you in his bed…"

Cloud did not think, he only acted.

In blur of black and blond, the youngest of the Planet's WEAPONS surged forwards. A split second later, the man's corpse, cleaved completely in two, fell to the ground in a bloodied heap of flesh and tissue. Cloud let out a slow, fortifying breath and looked up from his kill. Amarissa stared back at him, white as a sheet, shaking like a leaf in a windstorm.

"Where…why?" Her voice was so very weak.

"I will always protect you," Cloud promised, his face and tone deadly serious. "Now come, your injuries need tending." He glanced at the sword in his hands. Much like Sephiroth had with Masamune, First Tsurugi was summoned by Cloud's will. A wry, cold smile worked its way onto his lips as he wished the blade away. It was yet another reminder of his loss of humanity.

Carefully, he looped one arm around the young woman's waist.

Little did either of them realize that his promise set a cycle in motion.

**A/N: (Hehe, interesting stuff happens next chapter. Action! Yay. Review please? )**


	4. Chapter Three

**I would like to thank everyone who reviewed or added this story to their alerts and/or favorites! Thank you so much, it is you who keeps me writing, and (in case you hadn't noticed) the more response I get back, the faster these updates become. **

**A/N: **Installment four!

Yeah, I know, pathetically short. But unlike my other stories, I'm more or less taking this a scene at a time. I'm probably driving some of my faithful readers batty, but hey, these mini updates are rather relaxing after 6000+ words to update two other stories.

Also, I shall remind you that the plot does not begin until we hit 500 years into the future. We're at a little more than 100. Time skips galore in the next few chapters, and I shall be mucking with everyone's emotions. So, enjoy.

**Rating (Chapter): T (character death)**

**Words: **775 (Absolutely tiny. Enough said.)

**Summary: **Living forever is a blessing and a curse, one that strips away everything that once defined you. After 500 years and his share of tribulation, Cloud Strife stands as the immortal guardian of human kind. Will a prayer answered and a crisis' emergence, give rise to the only thing he ever desired? CloudxSephiroth. Alternate Universe. M-PREG. Dark.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters; I am merely abusing them for my entertainment and for the entertainment of others.

**Guardian**

**By Catsitta**

**Chapter Three:**

"Amarissa…" Cloud hung his head, unable to find the strength to mourn. The ebon-haired healer lay still upon the stone pew that had been his own bed for many months, her eyes shut and her expression deceptively peaceful. He would have held her calloused hand until the Planet reclaimed her, turning her body into a shower of green rain, but his arms were full.

Cradled against his chest was a tiny, newborn infant.

Almost nine months ago, he rescued the proud and resilient healer from the abusive clutches of her 'betrothed'. Amarissa's father sold her to the brute as if his daughter was but a piece of livestock, and not a human being. He did not care that the ebon-haired woman had no desire to marry or bear children for a man who would likely beat if not rape her. She was seen as troublesome, too independent for her own good…to worldly and outspoken for a woman. He decided she needed a husband who would not spare her the rod, and perhaps at last turn his rebellious child into a docile wife.

The ebon-haired healer, appalled by the selling of her body and virtue, laid with a traveling storyteller. Their tryst lasted all of a week. Upon her engagement, her father and betrothed kept her on a short leash, forcing her to stay within the boundaries of the village at all times. After being caught in passions embrace with the traveler, Amarissa fled. It was a minor blessing that she had been able to snare her simple slip dress while evading her enraged fiancé. Pulling it over her otherwise nude form, she tried to escape.

She made it as far as the tree line before the man caught her, by her hair no less. His strikes came quick and brutal, bruising and breaking tender flesh. Amarissa, desperate and wild with pain, swiped his belt knife and slashed her ebon locks with a single, clean stroke. After that, she continued to run and she almost made it to the steeple before being caught again…and that was when Cloud found her.

Unfortunately, even after sharing her tale and curling in the comfort of her savor's arms, Amarissa never quite recovered from the trauma. It did not help that she was with child, no less.

Cloud wanted his healer to be happy, for she chose the father of the babe that grew in her belly. But when her depression set in, she could not seem to escape the darkness and set herself free. Only caution and careful observation allowed for Cloud to divert her suicide attempts. It broke his heart to see her that way, so fragile and empty.

A few days before the child's birth, Amarissa fell ill.

It was a draining, sweating breed of fever that ravaged the mind and body. He could not protect her from this. By Gaia, he failed to protect her from the grief and sorrow that led to her weak health. Failure sank its icy claws into his conscious, tormenting him with images of her gruesome end, belly still swollen with the hollow promise of new life.

Her labor came early, induced by the stress, and Cloud begged the Planet to intervene, to heal the woman he vowed to protect. No song graced his mind and he possessed no materia with which to stop the bleeding. He was alone, from dusk until dawn, in his attempts to save both mother and child. Cloud knew that life eventually meant death. All return to the Lifestream from which all is born. It is a cruel cycle, but a necessary one. But seeing the life and vibrancy slowly fade from a passionate woman, one whom he had barely gotten to know and convinced to look him in the eye, until there was nothing left, not even a heartbeat…it was agonizing.

The Planet often reminded him how he was now longer human, how he was WEAPON and WEAPONS do not feel petty emotions or convictions. Sorrows and dreams, fears and names—it all meant nothing.

Yet…

In the early morning light that dappled through empty window panes, the newborn in his arms filled him with a painful breed of joy…Cloud always wanted the fairy tale ending. A wife and children. A family to call his own. Despite knowing that it was unlikely that the child would live without its mother, the blond pressed his lips against its brow. Or, her brow, as it was. The child was female. And human. Which meant she needed a name.

Taking one last, lingering look at the bloodstained shape of his healer and friend, Cloud named the baby Dawn.

**A/N: (Some of you are probably mad that I killed Amarissa. And some of you are probably wondering why I have not gotten to the meeting between Seph and Cloud. Remember, this is a journey, and I'm showing segments of that troubled path to set the scene. So please, review. I do so enjoy them ever much. Makes me smile. And I love to make the people who make me smile, smile as well. **

**Until next time!)**


	5. Chapter Four

**I would like to thank everyone who reviewed or added this story to their alerts and/or favorites! Thank you so much, it is you who keeps me writing, and (in case you hadn't noticed) the more response I get back, the faster these updates become. **

**A/N: **Installment five!

Meh, school has drained me of inspiration. Writers block is evil! Anywho, here is the next chapter of many yet to come. I'm working dutifully on Fourth Time's the Charm, but keep falling asleep before getting more than a paragraph or two done.

Enjoy!

**Rating (Chapter): T **

**Words: **1,212

**Summary: **Living forever is a blessing and a curse, one that strips away everything that once defined you. After 500 years and his share of tribulation, Cloud Strife stands as the immortal guardian of human kind. Will a prayer answered and a crisis' emergence, give rise to the only thing he ever desired? CloudxSephiroth. Alternate Universe. M-PREG. Dark.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters; I am merely abusing them for my entertainment and for the entertainment of others.

**Guardian**

**By Catsitta**

**Chapter Four:**

Ironically, on the day of Dawn's birth, war broke out between two of the nearby human villages. The results were devastating, and the whole jungle seemed to become alight with flame. Reluctantly, Cloud left the steeple that had been his home for a couple months shy of a year—the newborn baby drawn close to his chest.

Dressed in the garments the Planet provided, which were dark, heavy and entirely unsuitable for hot, humid climates—the blond hurried away from the conflict, his instincts clashing together, screaming for him to both keep running as well as to turn around and fight. Eventually, he allowed his mind to blank. The steady rhythm of Dawn's heartbeat reminding him of the fragile life in his arms.

It was not safe to jostle such a young child. Then again, without a mother to provide milk, was she not dead, regardless of how smoothly he ran? He cursed Gaia silently for Her cruelty. Why did Amarissa have to die? Why did Dawn have to die? Why did everyone he cared for, loved and protected, in turn, have to die as he watched?

"I will keep you safe…" Cloud promised aloud, his eyes trailing from his path unto the sleeping features of his healer's child,"No one will ever hurt you." But as he continued to run, his efforts felt in vain. No longer was he being chased by the evidence of war, the smoke and fire far behind, yet that gave little comfort when an endless sea of trees stood ahead of him. Dawn needed to eat; it had been hours since her birth. But she kept silent; peaceful…perhaps this was Gaia's blessing. Perhaps the baby would pass in her sleep, no hunger pains waking her from unnatural slumber.

But that, in itself, was a wicked thing to do.

Cloud came to a pause and grief gripped his heart. So much life surrounded him, so full of promise, and in his arms, there was a similar blessing. Except, she would never grow up and have children of her own. Never know the joys of childhood or the pains of heartbreak. She would stay innocent. Innocent death. A bitter proposal.

He fell into a crouch and stared at the slim creek that flowed before him. It was easy to step over in width and shallow. But it was enough. The thought of watching Dawn waste away in his arms was too much of a burden. Even if was a WEAPON and supposedly free of human emotion and ties, he still could not watch a child suffer and walk away unscathed. This would be a kinder fate…all he had to do was hold her head beneath the water's surface…

As Cloud, slowly and hesitantly, lowered Dawn towards the creek, an audible gasp caught his attention. His blue eyes flew up, away from his dark task, and fixated upon the bronze face of his observer. She was an older woman, with cropped, silver hair and pronounced creases around her mouth, suggesting that she smiled a lot in her youth. Dressed in a simple, long, gray skirt, sandals and nothing else—the woman was hardly a threat.

Remembering his grim duty, Cloud looked away from her and back down at Dawn's sleeping face. His hands began to shake. Why did he have to do this?

"Wait!" The woman pleaded, and he heard the pounding of feet as she ran towards him.

Cloud looked up, saying nothing to defend his actions.

"Give me the child," she demanded.

"She will not live to see her next sunrise,"the youngest of the Planet's WEAPONS said softly,"This is the only mercy I can gift her. Without a mother, she will perish—her death slow and painful as hunger weakens her body."

"She can live," the older woman coaxed,"You must simply trust me."

"Trust…" Cloud chuckled softly,"A novel concept." Then, the babe in his hands began to stir, her face scrunching with complaint. He shivered as he watched Dawn's eyes slowly open, the lids parting to reveal pale irises. Again, he cursed Gaia, and drew the babe against his chest, fighting back the tears emotions that threatened to consume him. Cloud was no longer human…he should not feel regret, love or sorrow. This anguish was all a delusion…but the mind is a powerful force. Thoughts can affect the body. Even his…

Slowly, the blond rose from his crouch and gazed down at the mumbling infant in his arms. The croons and gurgles meant nothing, but each sound reminded him that she was alive. Amarissa's daughter was in his arms, breathing… He could not do it. He could not knowingly—purposefully—end Dawn's life.

Cloud's eyes snapped up when he heard splashing. The old woman stood before him, her eyes critical but understanding. A strange mix.

"She's beautiful," the woman told him, but she made no motion to move closer. "Such a pretty babe must have a name."

The blond wanted to question how the stranger knew that Dawn was female until he noticed the pink cloth wrapped about her body. Had that been there before? Two seconds ago, he could have sworn that Dawn was dressed in little more than rags.

Unconsciously, he pulled the babe closer to his chest as he said,"Dawn."

"Dawn. A very lovely name. Now…I know it can seem overwhelming for a young man to become a father, but men do so every day. Your daughter is healthy. Be thankful."

"She is not mine." Cloud replied coolly, gifting the woman a level stare.

"Is this why you saw fit to drown her?"

"No. I would never harm a child. My actions were to prevent future suffering."

"Ah yes, you said her mother died. Did you consider finding a nurse? Or purchasing a goat?"

"A…goat?"

"A woman nursing a child of her own would be better, but if you are desperate, goats milk will suffice."

"I…know nothing of raising goats." Cloud admitted, but he did know a lot about raising certain birds,"Are they similar to chocobos?"

"Chocobos are birds. Goats are not. But they eat mostly anything and are easy to tend."

Cloud paused for a moment,"I have no means in which to purchase a goat or hire a nurse."

"Have you skills?"

He considered the question for a moment before answering,"I know a great deal about Chocobos…I can forge things metal. But my trade is that of a swordsman. I live by my blade."

"And now you have a child in your arms." The woman stated before reaching out and stroking Dawn's face. "No wonder you seem so lost. Come with me. I will help you."

"Why?"

"Why should you follow or why am I offering to help? To answer both: the baby. I am a widow. My husband died from a sweating sickness shortly before my son was born. I have raised a child alone. I have watched young girls do so as well. It is a harrowing experience. Let me help you."

Cloud remained silent until Dawn let out a piercing wail, starting him. With confusion in his eyes, he looked to the old woman and saw her smile knowingly.

After calming the infant's cries, he found himself following her, his focus on preserving the tiny life in his arms.

**A/N: ( I should note: Family is going to be a presiding theme in this tale. While the plotline will indulge the readers' need for action and romance, it is important to keep in mind that every detail I provide serves a purpose. These characters and their stories, while minor, will serve a greater purpose in the grand scheme of things.**

** But, enough blabbering. Please review and feel free to throw ideas and such my way. I always look forwards to bouncing ideas with people.**

** Oh, and Betas are nice. I'm always looking for a beta, it seems. Wanna volunteer or know someone who I could/should contact? Feel free to shoot me a PM.**

** As always, thanks for reading!)**


	6. Chapter Five

**I would like to thank everyone who reviewed or added this story to their alerts and/or favorites! Thank you so much, it is you who keeps me writing, and (in case you hadn't noticed) the more response I get back, the faster these updates become. **

**A/N: **Installment six!

Oddly enough, I'm almost done with the next chapter. I was writing this and realized that the timeline became awkward and a little hazy, so, I stopped it where I had originally intended.

As always, I adore reviews!

Check out my other stories…and…

Enjoy!

**Rating (Chapter): T **

**Words: **1,433

**Summary: **Living forever is a blessing and a curse, one that strips away everything that once defined you. After 500 years and his share of tribulation, Cloud Strife stands as the immortal guardian of human kind. Will a prayer answered and a crisis' emergence, give rise to the only thing he ever desired? CloudxSephiroth. Alternate Universe. M-PREG. Dark.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters; I am merely abusing them for my entertainment and for the entertainment of others.

**Guardian**

**By Catsitta**

**Chapter five:**

Somehow, everything turned out all right.

After meeting the old woman at the creek, Cloud found himself immersed back into the world of mankind in the simplest of ways. He stayed with the woman until he found work—monster hunting, seeing as the village (or town, really, for this nameless place was nothing like the primitive villages Amarissa spoke of) had an insect problem. The bugs were a grotesque variation of giant beetles and wasps, which he easily dispatched.

But soon, he knew, he would have to rely on himself rather than the old woman's hospitality. So, six months or tireless work later, he had in his care a small herd of goats on a little plot of land at the town's outskirts. There, Cloud built a home from the ruined stone remains of a crumbled monument. He knew not what the concrete building housed before, but with effort and careful tending, the ruins soon encompassed a little wooden hut. One room. Earthen floor. But stable, weather-tight and safe.

Bidding his host for the past months goodbye, Cloud carried Dawn to their new home. He would not be able to monster hunt; but it was not as if he needed to anymore. With a herd of goats and a satchel of tools, he could make due for the time being.

As he looked down at the infant cradled against his chest, Cloud knew that what he had was enough…it had to be enough.

000X000

Six months turned into a year and a year into two, and before he realized it, Dawn was four.

Cloud often watched as the girl tottered about, sometimes ahead of him and other times behind. Often enough she would cling to his leg and gaze up at him with adoration.

The people of the town knew of his skill with the blade and the men often murmured about Cloud being an unstoppable, emotionless force of nature when in action. So whenever they saw him in town, Dawn's small hands wrapped around his own, they would stare with wonder. Foolish really. Calloused hands clad in midnight-colored leather were capable of more than senseless slaughter. Just because he could kill did not mean he could not be gentle.

It was on one of his numerous excursions into town that Cloud realized how much of an enigma he made of himself. The way they whispered and watched, eyes filled with awe…did they believe it to be some miracle that the blond warrior had patience enough to raise a child? Perhaps it was a phenomenon of sorts, but it was not as if he were human. Time meant nothing to the blond. As long as Dawn's needs were tended to, all was well.

"Daddy…" At the sound of the child's voice, Cloud let his gaze fall away from the wondering stares he received as they walked through town hand-in-hand.

"Yes?"

"Are you ever going to marry?"

The blond warrior paused, his blue-eyes wide with confusion,"Pardon?"

Dawn blinked up at him, her cobalt eyes gleaming in the early light,"The other boys and girls say that when a mama dies, the daddy marries a new mama to take care of the kids."

"I do not need someone else to take care of you, Dawn."

"What about when I'm older and I need to talk about grown-up things?"

Cloud frowned,"Have you been talking with the old woman, again?"

"That's not nice, daddy. She's not old and she has a name. It's Layla…and it's a pretty name."

The blond sighed, Amarissa's daughter was stubborn and outspoken. He feared for when she became a teenager…or worse, a woman in her own right. But that was a long time away. Right now, she was four and the center of his universe. All it took was a pout or a smile to melt his heart.

"Layla…of course…" he murmured absently, before glancing up, feeling a pair of eyes watching his every move like a hawk. Cloud shivered and his grip around Dawn's hand tightened.

"Daddy…" the girl complained, but he did not hear.

Then he caught sight of his intent observer.

It was a woman, dark-skinned with ebony eyes and a thick fall of curls. Around her neck hung a plethora of glass beads, and about her wrists hung a dozen bangles. Thera. A gypsy from lands far west whose voluptuous curves and wanton ways made her an outsider. Unworthy of trust…or so they say. Cloud knew the woman from both rumor and passing dalliances. She would often bid him to dance or to listen to her tales of adventure.

And, more than once, Thera invited him to her bed.

If he were human, Cloud would have felt guilty about accepting her advances…most of the time.

With Dawn at his heels, the blond merely shook his head, and the gypsy smiled seductively. Shameful, the lust he felt, but in many ways, he was a man and as such, he possessed the basic, primal instinct to mate. But they were incompatible on countless levels. Their unbidden couplings proved that much to him. She was human and he was not—the press of skin and the quickening of heartbeats was but an illusion cast over the truth.

An ache always bloomed in his chest whenever they parted. It was not an ache of love…nor even one of lust. It was merely pain of empty memories echoing within his heart. He wanted a family, a lover and children. But even if Gaia were to allow her youngest WEAPON to sire offspring through a human, there came new problems. He was, essentially, immortal. Those he loved would fade, wither and die within a blink. Coping with the loss of those he held dearest would no doubt hamper the Planet's plans, whatever they might be.

"Daddy, something smells funny…" Cloud stiffened with alarm when his thoughts were shattered by the reek of smoke. This fire was unnatural, churning with intensity too hot for it to be the Planet's doing. No. Tainting the air was the faintest aroma of mako and blood—metallic and tangy. Someone was burning the jungle with materia.

Scooping Dawn into his arms, the blond warrior turned away from the bitter cloud that blackened the horizon. Once again, the need to run and escape filled his veins, as did the burning desire to leap into battle and fight. Stroking the girl's dark hair as he ran, Cloud silently prayed that whoever started the blaze would not travel any further…hoped that his ambition was to conquer a single village or town in the name of his family honor.

Yet, as he abandoned those whom he came to know and accept, Cloud suspected, darkly, that the man's ambition would reach past the horizon. It was human nature to seek and obtain power. Every drop…ever ounce…it drove the lust for control into a maddened frenzy in even the strongest of men.

Cloud closed his eyes and fought back the urge to retch.

His mind was supplying him with horrendous images of battle. Burnt and twisted bodies, entwined and crumpled, bones warped and twisted…skin melted into ash…blood boiled and seared away. Smoke, thick and putrid, plumed upwards into the sky as corpses burned amongst the thick tangles of trees. Monsters, hungry and eager for easy prey, linger too near to the blaze, eyes reflecting the dancing flames as they wait with anticipation.

"Daddy…"

He opened his eyes.

Dawn looked up at him, her soft features angelic…serene. Even while the swordsman worked himself into a panic, the child remained calm. And somehow, the peace in those wide, cobalt eyes took away his worries. As long as she was safe…nothing else…no one else…none of it mattered.

"Daddy…I hear crying…who's crying? Why are they sad?" She asked, her eyes going distant, as if she were dreaming,"They hurt…they cry…They say the Planet weeps. They say that She needs you." Dawn sighed and leaned her head against Cloud's shoulder, murmuring something else in her daze. But Gaia's message was loud and clear. She expected Her WEAPON to fight and he was uncertain whether that filled him horror or delight.

"I am Her Guardian…Her chosen son. My duty is to protect and maintain balance." Cloud whispered aloud,"I cannot refuse Her." The thing that hurt the most was the knowledge that Dawn's life was entwined with his on such a level. Hearing voices that could have come from nowhere else but the Lifestream was a burden he wished on no one. "But I will not fail Amarissa…her child will live."

And live she did.

In fact, one could say Dawn thrived.

**A/N: (Unintentional cliffhanger. But hey, this chappy is longer than the last couple. Hehe. I guess they'll never be long. –shrugs— Anywho… Review! Next installment should be out soon.)**


	7. Chapter Six

**I would like to thank everyone who reviewed or added this story to their alerts and/or favorites! Thank you so much, it is you who keeps me writing, and (in case you hadn't noticed) the more response I get back, the faster these updates become. **

**A/N: **Installment seven!

Wow, this chapter ended up being so long that I'm splitting it up into three segments. Why? 'Cause I can and having a random five to six thousand word chapter in the middle of all these short ones would have been a bit of a mouthful. Expect chapter seven out soon as well as eight. I just got on a roll and well, I hope you guys enjoy Dawn's ultimate struggle.

Although, I should mention that this story will contain a healthy dose of heterosexual relationships alongside the main (and eventual) homosexual one. Hope it doesn't bother too many people, but I'm afraid OC's do play a strong role…I think, however, by chapter ten we will at last meet Sephy. And perhaps another familiar face or two.

After all, it's rather hard to save the world by yourself, even Cloudy needs a friend or three watching his back. Enjoy~

Review please!

**Rating (Chapter): T (Mild violence and swearing)**

**Words: **2,234

**Summary: **Living forever is a blessing and a curse, one that strips away everything that once defined you. After 500 years and his share of tribulation, Cloud Strife stands as the immortal guardian of human kind. Will a prayer answered and a crisis' emergence, give rise to the only thing he ever desired? CloudxSephiroth. Alternate Universe. M-PREG. Dark.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters; I am merely abusing them for my entertainment and for the entertainment of others.

**Guardian**

**By Catsitta**

**Chapter six:**

Thirteen years of war and travel later, the little girl who once held his hand, was a woman whose valor put many men to shame.

Raised and educated by the lost hero of the Planet, Dawn soon stood at the lead of a small army, her mind filled with ancient secrets and her body sculpted by countless battles. Some called her an angel of vengeance—her graceful fury in the heat of combat a wild sight to witness. And others claimed her to be the ward of a demon—they knew her relation to the elusive blond swordsman, one who only appeared when the battle raged long and left both sides weary.

Guardian, she called him.

The men whom saw the blond in battle, often questioned the name. A demon, they continued to claim, for only a demon could raise a girl into a warrior.

Not that Cloud minded. He ignored the whispers of men and instead plunged into fray when Gaia called him into action. The days were dark and gruesome, filled with fire and blood, death and illness. Humanity seemed to be spiraling out of control yet again, their destructive nature taking hold.

Then, as the smoke cleared over the latest battlefield, a strange note of discord rang in Cloud's chest. It was sad, mournful, yet peaceful all the same. He searched the ashen grounds, uncertain what he was looking for. This particular battle had waged long and hard, both sides taking heavy losses. Dawn, the leader of the 'rebellion', as it was called, had disappeared in the midst of combat and instinctively, Cloud ripped through the armies, uncaring whose blood First Tsurugi tasted.

After hours of wandering, he fell to his knees and drew in shuddering breaths. He wished his grief would slice deeper than it was. Amarissa's daughter was missing and all he felt was a dull throb below his heart. How could the world feel at ease when hundreds lay dead and the girl he promised to protect was nowhere to be found?

The Planet caressed him with song.

000X000

The sickly sweet stench of incense filled her nose.

She could not help but recoil, coughing with disgust as the blackness that consumed her vision, cleared away. Groggily, Dawn lifted her head and focused cobalt eyes on the figure crouching before her. Glinting copper irises met her gaze.

"General,"she growled,"what is the meaning of this?"

The figure responded with deep, hollow laughter before reaching out and cupping Dawn's face with a calloused hand. 'General', as he was known, was the son of the terrible warlord whom began this ongoing battle. When the man died at the Guardian's hands five years ago, the copper-eyed swordsman stood in his stead.

Dawn gritted her teeth and spat at him. How dare the bastard touch her! But General merely shook his head and wiped the spittle from his cheek. Then, he flashed a smile, before letting his hand ghost over her cheek again. "I wish to make peace, Daughter of the Dawn. This war has gone on long enough."

"And you thought taking me prisoner would bring peace?" She challenged ardently, her eyes gleaming with hate. Her wrists were bound behind her, tied securely around a pole, likely the main support beam of the canvas hovel they were in. If only she were a little stronger…could rise to her feet and get a little more leverage…

General chuckled again,"Spirited dame. A true warrior in heart and spirit. I respect and acknowledge your courage, but as long as we fight on opposite sides, this war will wage on. More men will die for naught. Or…my dear, we can make peace and allow for the living to return home to their wives and children."

"You speak of impossible things," Dawn replied, tossing the man a dangerous glare,"It is not within human nature to simply step away from a cause. After so many deaths, it would take more than a treaty to prove them that there is no longer a battle to be fought."

Suddenly, those copper eyes were much closer. She sucked in a gasp of air as two hands cradled her face and muscled thighs straddled her lap. It was paralyzing, feeling his weight upon her body, his breath against her skin. She felt fear creep into her gut, chilling and bitter. Words escaped her. The blond Guardian she called father once warned of her of men and their dark desires. He told her to be wary, that those who lusted over beauty and womanly flesh would oftentimes take what they craved. Never in her seventeen years of life had she imagined being in such a situation.

Lips brushed against hers—dry but questing.

He wanted a kiss. It would be a hot day in the Northern Crater before she gave him that!

Twisting and bucking her body like an animal caught in a trap, Dawn managed to send General toppling over onto the dirt. She could not help but smirk. But the expression faltered when the man began to laugh, clearly enjoying something about the situation. Soon enough, he was on his feet and standing above her, his weight resting upon an outstretched arm, his palm flat against the support beam.

"You will make a grand wife!" He exclaimed before turning and walking away. "And our children…they will be mighty, indeed." As General disappeared, Dawn finally found her voice and let out an indignant squawk. No words could describe how she felt. Had her enemy just claimed that she would make a 'grand wife'? Why in Gaia's good name would she wed the bastard? Much less bear him children! She was not some broodmare for a man, any man, to make claims on. She was Daughter of the Dawn; the valiant leader of rebellion whom people claimed was raised by a creature from the shadowy depths of hell!

Furious, she writhed against the cords that bound her, rubbing the skin of her wrists raw. It was only when her wounds began to bleed and her body to ache with fatigue, that Dawn collapsed against the beam and clenched her eyes shut. It was then that she silently began to pray to the Planet, begging for the spirits within the Lifestream to hear her call for help. Soon, Gaia's calming song sang quietly within her mind. The collective voices of that joined together and formed Her voice, began to ramble and murmur, offering their condolences. Why She not give her the strength to escape her enemy? Why did She merely watch with sweetened sadness?

"Here…all you need to do is sign this, Dawn, and the war between us will end."

At the sound of General speaking, she opened her eyes and stared at the paper in his outstretched hand.

"Awful hard to sign something when one's hands are bound," Dawn retorted dryly, though her gaze never left the yellow-tinted contract. Ink, not even quite dry, glistened in the muted light that filtered through the canvas walls.

"Promise that you will not attempt to escape?"

"I will make so such vow," She narrowed her eyes and could not help but flinch as the glint of metal flashed in her peripheral vision. General had drawn a knife. But instead of pressing the edge against the column of her throat, he began to cut away at her bonds. As the cord fell away, freeing her bruised and bloodied wrists, Dawn snarled and leapt at the swordsman, her only thoughts that of survival…if only she could grab the knife.

Suddenly, the blade went spinning out of his hands and flew into the corner of the hovel. Eyes wide with adrenaline, Dawn attempted to retrieve the weapon, but her actions were thwarted as General flipped their bodies around so that she lay beneath him. She panted from the exertion and rather than scream as another woman would, she continued to struggle against her captor. Copper-colored eyes glittered with amusement.

"Such an untamable beauty…" His lips pressed against her brow, then her cheek…like butterflies. "I have wanted you like this since you felled my greatest warrior…then left me with a wound to remember you by." General caught one of her flailing arms and slid Dawn's hand over his belly, pressing her palm against the scar that lie beneath the fabric of his uniform. She recalled the battle of which he spoke. That was two years ago, and somehow, she caught him off guard and plunged her blade into his gut. Stomach wounds always healed badly if they healed at all. Such injuries often turn septic as the acid eats away at fragile tissue and infection seeps into bloodied lesions.

"Get off of me!" Dawn spat, wrenching her hand free and raking her dull nails over the tender flesh of his wrist. General clucked with laughter yet again. He found her struggles amusing, apparently.

"Never," he breathed—his voice heavy with heady inflection.

"You you honestly expect me to sign anything if you rape me?" Dawn's protests were deathly quiet,"Your body shall be cast to the far corners of the Planet by the Guardian when he learns of your act."

Copper eyes were bright. He seemed undisturbed by her threats.

"It would be dishonorable for a man of my esteem to take a woman by force…especially when she can be willing."

"Are you deaf or just stupid?"

"Neither, my dear, for you will sign the treaty and to seal the contract, we shall be wed."

"I'd rather die than…" But her words were cut short. General had begun to unfasten the buckles of her armor. "W-what are you doing?" She tried to slap his hands away, but he merely continued his quest.

"I am very sorry that it had to come to this, my dear." He told her,"But I refuse to let more of my men die for my father's ambition. I am weary of bloodshed and battle. Convincing you to accept my proposal is the only thing I can think to do. Unfortunately, you have forced my hand."

"Get off of me!"

Her cries fell upon deaf ears.

General unfastened Dawn's shoulder guards, her bracers and belts before freeing the fastenings of her breastplate. As the leather hit the ground with a lifeless THUNK when tossed to the side, Dawn became very still and very quiet, half expecting her captor to grope her breasts through the thin cloth that remained to cover them. But he did not. Merely, he worked his way lower, pulling off her boots and knee guards. When his fingers touched the clasp of her armored, leather pants—she tried to slap him, too confused and tired to try anything else.

He caught her hand and kissed her knuckles, before returning to his current task.

She closed her eyes and fought the urge to blush with embarrassment as her legs were bared. Clad in only a thin, sweat stained blouse and her undergarments, Dawn felt painfully exposed. Why was he doing this if not to force himself upon her? Suddenly, his weight lifted away from her. She shivered and curled up around herself. Failure set in at last. She cursed her foolishness and arrogance—her Guardian had warned of the perils of war, but she had insisted that he train her and allow her fight.

Until this moment, she never regretted that choice.

All she wanted to do was cry until there were no more tears to shed…but it had been a long time since she last wept. War was never a place for the weak of heart. Emotions were to be kept bottled up and never let out of control. It was how one stayed alive.

"I will give you one more chance to say yes before I take drastic measures, my dear Dawn." General murmured, she could feel his hand against her shoulder,"All you have to do is sign the paper. This war ends and we become husband and wife. Then you can bathe and I'll bring you fresh clothing and a meal. I am not a cruel man, Dawn. I will treat you as you deserve."

If her Guardian taught her anything, it was that in was human nature to lie, deceive and corrupt. Marriage would bind her to a man; force her to bend to his will. She did not want to be a wife and mother, especially not after the horror stories she heard from when she was a child…young women being beaten and raped by their husbands because of disobedience or the woman did not want to have sex. It scared her. She did not want to be controlled. Ever since she was young, she was free and it was because of that freedom that she prospered and bloomed into a warrior.

"Don't touch me," Dawn growled, reflexively lashing out at General. Dull nails bit into his cheek, breaking the skin. Red, raw trails marked his bronze complexion—his own blood creating angry blooms of color. The hand on her shoulder lifted and she watched as he touched his wounded cheek. He did not seem angry but neither did he look pleased. If anything, General appeared disappointed.

"So be it," he said, before retrieving the document that lay abandoned on the floor. "I shall return in the morning to see if your answer has changed. Sleep well, Daughter of the Dawn."

"I will never marry you!"

"We shall see."

**A/N: (You know how I adore my cliffies. =3 Review please! Also, the next chapter is already written, so what is going to happen is already set in stone. But I adore feedback either way.)**


	8. Chapter Seven

**I would like to thank everyone who reviewed or added this story to their alerts and/or favorites! Thank you so much, it is you who keeps me writing, and (in case you hadn't noticed) the more response I get back, the faster these updates become. **

**A/N: **Installment eight!

One more part and Dawn's 'story' will be complete. As was stated in the last chapter, Chapter ten or so will be when Cloud meets Seph and thus, the real plot begins.

Review please!

**Rating (Chapter): T **

**Words: **1,482

**Summary: **Living forever is a blessing and a curse, one that strips away everything that once defined you. After 500 years and his share of tribulation, Cloud Strife stands as the immortal guardian of human kind. Will a prayer answered and a crisis' emergence, give rise to the only thing he ever desired? CloudxSephiroth. Alternate Universe. M-PREG. Dark.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters; I am merely abusing them for my entertainment and for the entertainment of others.

**Guardian**

**By Catsitta**

**Chapter seven:**

A single night turned into three and then into seven. After two weeks of counting the rise and fall of the sun, Dawn stopped. There was no point. She was alone and trapped…well, not exactly alone, but General's company was not something she desired.

True to his word, he had come in the morning after the first night to see if her answer had changed. It hadn't. So he left without a word, leaving behind a bucket of water. If only the man had not cleared the hovel of anything that could be used as a weapon. Had she rope or the knife, then she might have secured her freedom. Instead, all she could do was watch disdainfully from the corner of the room, not trusting her physical strength enough to believe she could topple him. At least in the evenings he brought her food. The rations were scant enough to ward off hunger, but then again, they were in the middle of a war, right?

By day three, Dawn learned that the canvas walls were sturdier than they appeared and slippery with oil, presumably to make the building weather-resistant.

By the end of week one, she was nearly insane with boredom, having already paced the length, breadth and circumference of the empty room a countless number of times.

Now, sometime after a fortnight of captivity, with her only human contact with General, she believed herself to be completely cracked.

Gaia was silent. The hovel was silent. Everything was too damn quiet and that meant her mind was left to its own devices for entertainment. Unfortunately, her brain, a little dazed from minimal stimulation, concocted a few unwelcome scenarios. All of which centered around a certain copper-eyed swordsman.

How she loathed herself for these imaginings!

General, while neither young nor old, or particularly handsome—started to reflect in her mind's eye as a suitor worthy of attention. Why, Dawn had no idea, but every time she closed her eyes, it was his rugged features that appeared…that mocking smile curved upon his lips. After a time, she wondered if it would be terrible to be married to the man. Again, he was not a young man, at least in his early thirties, but his battle-hardened body appealed to her in the most basic of ways. She would see his finely cropped brown hair, copper-hued irises, wide shoulders and thick muscles and her belly would fill with heat.

For a man whom held her as a prisoner of war, General treated her kindly enough. Those strong hands ghosted over her skin on more than one occasion, and at least twice, he pulled her flush against his chest, allowing Dawn to feel the rigid muscles that shaped his bulky form. There were moments where he reminded her of her Guardian. Powerful and so capable of crushing anything without effort, yet yielding and careful, almost unwilling to touch too heavily lest she break.

Confused and conflicted, Dawn resigned herself to daydreaming, her back against the support beam. Early on, she had made escape attempts, dashing towards and even through the door flap. Only, two of General's men apparently stood outside her habitation at all times, armored and armed. Clad in almost nothing without a weapon aside from her own fists, Dawn quickly found herself overwhelmed.

She was trapped. She was bored. And she was fucking fantasizing about her captor! Damn hormones. Speaking of which, her woman's cycles were soon. Dawn shuddered at the thought of explaining to her captor or one of his men that she needed…supplies. Hell, it had freaked her out enough when her Guardian gave her the 'talk', as he called it, and took her to see a healer.

"Good evening, Dawn." She blinked lazily at the sound of General's voice.

"Fuck off," Dawn grumbled, though her complaint was only half-hearted. She was lonely. She missed the thrill of battle. She missed her freedom…She missed her Guardian. Why did she have to be so pathetic and weak? If only she could fight her way towards safety.

"Can't we get along, my dear?" General asked as he knelt beside her, a ration of rice porridge in hand, still warm by the smell of it. "I do not wish to keep you prisoner."

"No. You want me in your bed." Her angry retort came accompanied with shiver.

"Does the prospect disgust you that much? My dear, I am a capable lover. You shall want for naught as my wife and mate."

"You're a warrior, General, and that will never change." Dawn said after a long silence,"And I am the same. A coupling between us would only lead to violence as I refuse to be subjugated by some…_male_." The last word was spat rather than spoken,"I am hardly a flower that needs careful tending, like you and your ego presume."

General chuckled, his laugh deep inside his chest. Why could she not incite this man into getting angry? If she could test his patience enough, there was a chance he would let her go rather than attempt to overcome her hostile nature. "Ah, but you are a flower, dear Daughter of the Dawn. You are a rare, exotic flower grown in the midst of war, watered with the blood of enemies whom dare touch your thorns. But I do not mind losing a little blood if it means plucking for myself the most beautiful of roses."

Where was he getting all this sappy crap?

And why in hell was her stomach doing flips. She hated him! Right?

"I am not asking for you to love me, my dear, only to see reason." He began as Dawn growled profanities at him. "Sign a paper and this war will end and lives will be saved. Your men, those who followed you and the man before you into battle must be as sick of this bloodshed as mine. A truce. A treaty. With a marriage to seal the contract. Is your stubborn pride worth sentencing men to an early death?"

It was not the first time that her heart and anger sank. The longer she had to think about his offer, the more selfish she felt. The more childish and foolhardy. For the better of her people, was it worth sacrificing her beliefs? Yes, unfortunately, her one life was insignificant compared to the number that could be saved through this treaty. All the suffering could end. All if she stopped thinking about herself…

"Dawn?"

"I dislike you, General…nay, I _loathe_ you." She put the full force of her will behind her cobalt stare,"You're a manipulative bastard who lusts after a girl more than ten years your junior. But…I must confess that I too am tired of this fight. Without a purpose, it is simply needless bloodshed. I…I will sign the contract on one condition. You will make no attempts to incite your 'husbandly rights' upon me. Doing so will end very poorly for you if I do not cut your throat out before then."

General smirked then and dipped his head with acknowledgment.

"Very well, my dear. But I shall not cease to court your favor."

"Just give me the paper and something to sign it with," Dawn snarled. It took all her willpower not to crumble. For the first time in her life, she was alone. Without her Guardian to watch over her, she was truly weak. And for that weakness, she hated herself. All it took was two weeks for her to fold beneath pressure. He would be ashamed of her, not wish to claim her as his daughter.

Dawn refused to cry.

This was ultimately her choice as a woman of her own right.

How had things gotten so out of hand?

000X000

Cloud, after nearly three weeks of searching, at last found a sign. His ward was alive. Gaia's song sang triumphant, as She did after every won battle. But why was She filled with such joy? Had Dawn escaped those who held her captive?

Following the pulse of energy that connected him to all things of the Planet, Cloud found himself standing above the most peculiar sight.

A hundred feet below from the sheer cliff upon which he stood, was a secluded village consisting of canvas huts. Men clad in gleaming armor and hoisting about massive weaponry, stood alert and at attention in orderly rows. Cloud strained his vision when he caught a smudge of white against the earthy tones of the valley.

A wedding! No wonder Gaia proclaimed Her joy, he was within a mile of the ceremony. Whoever was exchanging vows must have a very strong connection to the Planet…then, he blinked and paled. Happiness and curiosity fled, replaced with strange terror intermixed with anger. His ward…his adopted daughter…Dawn. She was the one getting married.

Without a second thought, he slid down the cliff face with every intention of intervening.

**A/N: (I adore reviews! Next chapter will be out soon.)**


	9. Chapter Eight

**I would like to thank everyone who reviewed or added this story to their alerts and/or favorites! Thank you so much, it is you who keeps me writing, and (in case you hadn't noticed) the more response I get back, the faster these updates become. **

**A/N: **Installment nine!

This is the last installment of Dawn's story. There is one transition chapter after this and then the plot begins. It took a little while to establish a few things, but thanks to all who have been patient with me.

**Rating (Chapter): T **

**Words: **2,541

**Summary: **Living forever is a blessing and a curse, one that strips away everything that once defined you. After 500 years and his share of tribulation, Cloud Strife stands as the immortal guardian of human kind. Will a prayer answered and a crisis' emergence, give rise to the only thing he ever desired? CloudxSephiroth. Alternate Universe. M-PREG. Dark.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters; I am merely abusing them for my entertainment and for the entertainment of others.

**Guardian**

**By Catsitta**

**Chapter eight:**

It was embarrassing.

Dawn could hardly stand being fussed over as she had been in the past few hours.

Apparently, General wanted to make this contract as undeniable as possible. The more witnesses, the better. Hell, he'd even captured a few of her own men just so that no one could deny the legitimacy of their union. Their pity, Dawn found, disgusted her. Why did the men who once fought beside her, now watch with sorrow in their eyes? She wanted to rip the ridiculous gown from her body and start hacking things apart with a sword.

In fact, her anger was reaching its peak when the groom reached her side and took her hands into his own.

Unlike a normal bride, Dawn refused a veil or a train, deigning to wear white only because it was the only clothing given to her to wear. And now, she stared at her future husband with a direct and cutting gaze. No. He would never control her. It did not matter how much he tried.

As the priest began to speak, his tones low but clipped with militaristic inflection, Dawn felt her situation sink in even deeper. Dread filled with liquid ice. Then, General leaned forwards and covered her mouth with his own, stealing away the cold and replacing it with heat. There were no 'I do's', merely a statement by the priest of what vows bound them before her groom sealed their bond with a kiss.

As quickly as it all began, it was over.

Five minutes. No less, no more. That was as long as it took to sign her life and freedom away in exchange for ending the war.

Dawn opened her mouth to speak, but before she could utter a sound, a familiar voice cut through the air, calm and subtly deadly.

"I have come to bring you home, Dawn."

She gasped with surprise, joy leaping into her soul,"Daddy!"

And then, she broke free of General to throw her arms around her Guardian's neck. How she missed him.

000X000

He was not sure what to think or exactly how to react.

His newly made wife fled from his side and thrust herself into the arms of a blond man he knew too well. Guardian. The warrior who took no sides in battle, merely descended into the fray and forced the fighting to an end. The warrior who stole away his father's life.

It was difficult to see the slender blond as Dawn's father or as his sire's killer.

Guardian was short for a male, perhaps five foot eight, with wide shoulders, narrow hips and a boyish face. His features, from his sky-blue eyes rimmed with green to his wild blond hair, did not align with his nature nor with Dawn appearance. She possessed long, dark curls that swept nearly to her waist, and her eyes were the deepest cobalt blue. Either she took strongly after her mother, or the blond was merely her ward. Then again, Guardian looked no older than twenty at the most, though he knew that the man had been there from the war's start.

Confused and frustrated, General remained where he stood as the blond encompassed Dawn his arms.

"Dawn, come back here." He ordered softly, daring not to raise his voice too harshly around the legendary swordsman.

Of course, his rebellious wife tossed back her head and otherwise ignored his demand.

He felt desperation set in.

After two years of chasing and planning, the only woman he ever desired to make his wife was dancing away yet again.

Not one to often pray, General closed his eyes and begged that the divine give him a chance to win his chosen's favor. And not for the first time, a strange melody caressed his senses, urging him to stay calm and to be patient. Dawn was his soul mate, he knew that for sure, but never once did he think that keeping her, once captured, would be such a struggle.

000X000

Cloud buried his face in Dawn's hair, his heart soaring with elation.

Amarissa's daughter, her beautiful daughter, was alive and well…and smelled faintly of flowers. He lifted his face away and noticed the yellow and white blooms adorning her hair. Suddenly, he found himself with hardly enough strength to stand. Those flowers…those delicate, precious blossoms. He remembered them. They were the only flowers to have ever grown in the city of Midgar. Aerith, the last Cetra, and only half of one at that, had grown them in her garden. Their scent was delicate, familiar and both warming as well as chilling.

Her presence…he could sense it. At the back of his mind's eye, he could see a pair of emerald eyes watching him, offering comfort. Nearby, he could feel another individual, whose eyes were the brightest aquamarine Cloud had ever seen in his life. Aerith and Zack. Two lovers whose fate was to die too young, but in death, they found peace that could never be obtained on the Planet's surface. They were still with him, watching and guiding him with subtle thoughts and sensations.

But what did it mean?

He imagined Zack and Aerith's hands clasped together, fingers entwined. The beautiful brunette nodded her head and gave the softest of smiles, as if to say it was okay. Zack, of course, grinned cheekily, giving Cloud a thumbs up.

Cloud combed his hands through Dawn's hair, before placing the softest of kisses against her brow. The Planet approved the union between his ward and this…man. As did Aerith and Zack. Fighting back a tremble that would betray his strained restraint, he released the girl and realized, at last, that she was a woman. A beautiful, strong woman whom was now married to a man practically twice her age. Not that such was uncommon these days, but he somehow doubted that this was a bond of love. In fact, from what snippets of the ceremony he heard, this wedding sealed a treaty of peace between the two sides of battle.

Good. He was sick of war. He was sick of fighting, especially when no one knew why they were fighting for anymore.

"Daddy?" Dawn's innocent, childish question made his heart melt. It hurt to let her go. "Daddy! W-what are you doing. I thought you were going to take me home."

Cloud nodded,"I was…until I realized that you are home. Listen, Dawn, listen to the Planet and how She sings. I cannot intervene. It is not my place to take such happiness from Her."

"I thought you loved me…" Dawn whimpered.

"My love for you is undying but irrelevant. I am Her Guardian, Dawn, and it is to Her will that I must bend. I wish you only happiness with your husband, and that you will one day come to forgive me."

Greif overtook her beautiful features as she backed away, obviously hurt. Cloud did nothing when her husband stepped forwards and wrapped his arms around her, and offered his shoulder for her to cry upon. Dawn, however, did not cry. She wrenched free of the man's embrace and drew her arm back with every intention of striking him. Then, the anger in her eyes died and her hand fell to her side. Once again, she was brought into the man's embrace, and this time she did not pull away.

Cloud sighed and turned.

Of all the men for the Planet to choose, why did She pair his ward with the enemy? He recognized the copper-colored eyes of Dawn's husband, but they did not glint with wicked ambition. There was weariness and hope instead.

"Be gentle with her," Cloud murmured, "She does realize how fragile she is." And then, he walked away.

000X000

For nearly seven years, Dawn let fate carry her through life, rarely fighting the flow of events that followed her wedding.

The war ended. The fighting ceased. And while hate and discord remained, violence rarely broke out between villages. People were less isolated now, still wary, but trade and expansion came with the new age of peace.

She, herself, became a tutor for young girls otherwise denied a proper education. Dawn taught them how to find strength in both literacy and in combat. It was controversial at best, and if it were not for her and her husband's fearsome reputations, it was likely she would have been harassed…or snubbed at the very least. Instead, the men folk watched as their daughters gathered at Dawn's heels, following the warrior nearly everywhere she went. They listened as she regaled them with stories, both recent and ancient, her tales unbelievable at best.

Then again, many of them were born into families whom denied the truth behind the ruins.

It was comforting, to Dawn, to share her Guardian's stories of magic and SOLDIERS, of science and prophecy. When he spoke of friends, long since passed into the Lifestream, his face always softened with happiness…but when his thoughts trailed to that of Jenova and her son, shadows took over his features and at times he would grow silent for days thereafter.

But with every day that passed, a hollow ache reminded her of the blond man's betrayal…how he turned his back and left her to Malak's care. Yes. That was 'General's real name. Malak.

Then again, he was the Planet's chosen protector. He was not hers and hers alone. There were others out there who needed him…but by Gaia, it hurt no less.

"You are scowling, my dear. Is something the matter?" Malak's voice broke Dawn from her brooding as she contemplated her life. She sat on the edge of her bed, one she had yet to allow her husband into, much to the villager's dismay. As a woman and a wife, it was her duty to bear children, and in their eyes, she was failing miserably. It reflected poorly upon them both, and rumors had started to run amok about her being barren or that their marriage was to hide Malak's preference in men and a whole slew of other wild tales.

Not that she cared, but her husband was highly ranked and immensely respected. An inability to sire an heir would possibly lead to fights over leadership and such. They were, as of late, encouraging him to have an affair with a ditzy young thing just so that he could have a child to inherit his land and possessions. Hell, Dawn even once told Malak that she could care less if he slept with another woman if it meant he stayed out of her bed. If he took up her offer, she did not know, nor did she care.

At least…she thought she did not.

"I am twenty-four years of age," Dawn murmured, propping her elbow on her knee and resting her chin on her knuckles, "and I feel less certain of my identity than I did at seventeen. Then, I was whole, my Guardian and the thrill of battle all that I needed. Now…I feel lost. Empty. Confused." She sighed. It was easy to speak with Malak. In a strange way, they had become friends. He understood her. They had a lot in common. He was charming, kind and, if allowed, would spoil her horribly. Of course, he had his faults, but everyone did. His temper was slow burning and when he snapped, he often lashed out with words, but on occasion, he would lose it on an unsuspecting idiot and pound the moron into the dirt. He was older, nearly forty, and his hair was starting to turn gray. More often than not, he kept his silence; much like her Guardian, he could go days without saying more than a word or two.

Today, however, Malak seemed content with holding a conversation, an easy smile playing upon his lips. "Your mind is merely listening to what your body has been saying for years, Dawn. Like it or not, you are a woman and your natural instincts are to bear and raise children."

Dawn stiffened at the comment. "I have told you before, Malak, I have no intention of laying with you."

She felt the bed dip as her husband sat next to her. "Is there someone else, then?"

"Of course not!" She gasped, horrified at the suggestion. "If I were to let anyone in my bed, it would be someone I loved and trusted."

"You do not trust me?" Malak was careful not to ask if Dawn loved him. She always said no.

"There is only one person I trust more…" She sighed with defeat,"and he is practically a father to me."

"So you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Do you like me? Do you at least see me as a friend and companion?"

"Certainly."

Malak wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her close,"Do you wish to take your maidenhood to the grave?"

By this time, Dawn was visibly miserable. She did not want to answer that. No, she had little desire to meet death a maiden, but…

He rubbed her arm gently and kissed her cheek,"I promise to be gentle."

"Leave me alone."

"No."

It was the first time he had ever dared to ignore her demand. Dawn braced herself to fight, but when his lips caressed her own, all her anger fled. He was right, her body and mind were agreeing on one thing and that was the natural instinct to mate. Fear welled up before being dashed away by curiosity and heat.

Just once…she told herself. Just once so that she would not die without ever tasting pleasure once.

000X000

Malak was not exactly sure how to react when, one evening, he came home and Dawn tried claw his eyes out. She was delirious with rage and fear, and he had no idea why. Only after wrestling his young wife to the ground, holding her wrists together to that she could not scratch, and straddling her legs so that she could not kick, did she begin to break down…For the first time, he saw her cry.

Impulsively, he began to kiss away her tears.

They were lovers now. It did not matter that they had only lain together once. She was his in every sense of the word and he loved her. He just wished she would admit to loving him. It was easy to see the conflict in her eyes every time they spoke these days. Dawn was fighting it, and she would feel so much better if she just let herself go, and immerse herself in the bliss of love.

"You bastard! I hate you." Malak recoiled at his wife's angry words. "This is all your fault."

"Dawn, explain yourself." He felt his temper rising.

She snarled and bucked, weeping like a child as she cursed him, his name and his ancestors in a matter of seconds. Then, she went limp, her body shaking with uncontrolled sobs. What could have possibly upset his little wife so much that she acted this way?

Now docile, Dawn was safe to unpin and pull into his lap. She rested her face against his shoulder and clutched at his clothing. It was a long time before he heard her speak and her words nearly froze his blood.

"I'm with child…your child."

**A/N: (Not as much as a cliffhanger as you might think. Here Dawn's story ends, but the next chapter is being posted alongside this one.)**


	10. Chapter Nine

**I would like to thank everyone who reviewed or added this story to their alerts and/or favorites! Thank you so much, it is you who keeps me writing, and (in case you hadn't noticed) the more response I get back, the faster these updates become. **

**A/N: **Installment ten!

Review please!

**Rating (Chapter): T **

**Words: **1,030

**Summary: **Living forever is a blessing and a curse, one that strips away everything that once defined you. After 500 years and his share of tribulation, Cloud Strife stands as the immortal guardian of human kind. Will a prayer answered and a crisis' emergence, give rise to the only thing he ever desired? CloudxSephiroth. Alternate Universe. M-PREG. Dark.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters; I am merely abusing them for my entertainment and for the entertainment of others.

**Guardian**

**By Catsitta**

**Chapter Nine:**

Cloud balanced atop a pillar of concrete, his black winter cloak billowing out behind him in the wind. Snow fell around him. The world was a playground of white. So serene…so blissful and innocent. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, relishing in the silence.

Here had made his home. For over twenty years, he lived in the ruins of some lost city. The people here whom made habitation after Meteor fall had long since perished, their ramshackle abodes easily repaired. Once again, he had found what was likely some kind of church or steeple. Places of worship drew him and allowed him a certain peace of mind.

But for the past few nights, his peace was disturbed.

Everything was quiet as it always was, especially in the winter months.

But even when the world did not ring with the buzz of life, the Planet hummed her song. Her silence unnerved him. As did the hollow undertones of sorrow. She was grieving.

It was late in the evening and he was about to take shelter from an incoming storm (dark clouds were thick upon the horizon), when he noticed a huddled figure in the distance. Curious, Cloud followed his instincts and leapt from the pillar, sinking knee deep in the collected snow.

Travel was slow, but the cold did not affect him. His only concern was for the unlucky person in the distance. After all, he was Her Guardian, and humans, he discovered, were something She deemed worthy of protecting after nearly wiping them out of existence.

What felt like, even to him, hours later, Cloud at last reached the stranger. She was small and delicate in build, definitely female and swimming in the bulky robes she clutched tightly about herself. Carefully, he guided her to shelter, his back shielding her from the now squalling winds. When they were to safety, he helped the female his bedroom, and set her on the quilted mattress. It was then, and only then, that he pushed back the hood of her cloak.

Copper-colored eyes stared back at him, stealing away his breath.

Cloud said nothing. He never was one for words.

It would be three days before the girl, one whom looked to be no older than fourteen, left the comfort of a warm bed and wandered into the confines of the ruined church. He watched her and she remained quiet. It would be another week before either of them spoke.

"I came looking for you." The girl said just as Cloud returned from a monster hunt, his sword still in hand. "She told me that you needed me. That it was my purpose to take care of you. To make you happy." She raised from the kneeling position she had been in to turn and look him in the eye. "You are as much of my Guardian as you are Hers. Gaia shared with me so many secrets that I have no one else to turn to. I am lost, Guardian. My mother was ill for most of my life; her mind filled with voices from the otherworld…the Lifestream. She said she always heard them whisper, but instead, they screamed. Then came my fourteenth birthday, and her mind cleared and mine now swims with chaos. They told me to find you. That you could quiet their pleading…their pain. And they spoke the truth."

He was uncertain how to respond to the nameless child of Dawn's.

"We are bound, Guardian, by a vow deeper than blood." The girl said after a pregnant pause,"The Planet told me what must be done to keep the insanity at bay..."

"I promised to protect Amarissa…swore to her that she would come to no harm." Cloud's voice was but a whisper, barely audible in a room silent aside from the sounds of heartbeats and breathing.

"You are our protector, Guardian. And in turn, we keep you safe. Until your soul can find completion and peace, my family line is forever tied to you. First born females will carry the burden placed upon them until their own child is fourteen years of age. At which point, they may leave or stay, pursuing whatever it is they desire. Until then, we are bound by loyalty and love to you…our Guardian. The Planet's chosen."

Cloud bowed his head,"I am sorry."

The girl shook her head, her expression cool and indifferent,"Waste not your apologies, Guardian." And then, she walked away, yet again disappearing into the bedroom Cloud had once claimed as his own.

Stunned with shock and emotion strain, Cloud let out a shuddering sigh. For all of their physical difference and mannerisms, he could still see Amarissa in those copper eyes of her granddaughter. But what did this mean? Had he bound the descendants of his cherished healer to a life of misery? No. He would do what he could to keep them happy. They were, after all, the closest he had…would ever have, to family.

Wishing the sword in his hands away, Cloud came to kneel before the alter, his blue eyes focused on the faded painting of Gaia on the wall. He could see the faint hues of the human portrayal of the entity. Long blond hair, eyes the color of Lifestream, skin as pale as winter frost, armored in magnificent steel, and in either hand, She held a sword and a shield. She was portrayed as a warrior woman, both capable of giving life and stealing it away. The tides of life and death were but an ancient lullaby of which She sang to souls each night as they drifted amongst the planes of dream.

"Why?" He asked for the first time since waking up in a world where Calamity was but a nightmare in children's stories.

Gaia, like always, gave no answer.

It would centuries later before someone would give his inner turmoil a voice.

Five hundred years after the WEAPONS' rise and fall, a girl named Rena would come into her destined inheritance. It would be in her dreams, as well, that a new darkness would reveal itself, one that could destroy everything that Gaia and her Guardian sought to protect.

**A/N: (Yeah! I got the first part of this story done. Plot starts up next chappie. Yep. You all get to see Sephy-kins. Though, there are few more changes to the 'world' that will likely surprise you. Enjoy and review please!)**


	11. Chapter Ten

**I would like to thank everyone who reviewed or added this story to their alerts and/or favorites! Thank you so much, it is you who keeps me writing, and (in case you hadn't noticed) the more response I get back, the faster these updates become. **

**A/N: **Installment eleven!

Meh, writers block…but, enjoy and review!

**Rating (Chapter): T **

**Words: **1,530

**Summary: **Living forever is a blessing and a curse, one that strips away everything that once defined you. After 500 years and his share of tribulation, Cloud Strife stands as the immortal guardian of human kind. Will a prayer answered and a crisis' emergence, give rise to the only thing he ever desired? CloudxSephiroth. Alternate Universe. M-PREG. Dark.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters; I am merely abusing them for my entertainment and for the entertainment of others.

**Guardian**

**By Catsitta**

**Chapter ten:**

Not for the first time, she watched her Guardian sleep.

Youthful features contorted into expressions of hidden sorrows. He was in pain. His nightmares threatened to consume him. So many burdens laid upon his eternal shoulders, and yet, he was no closer to redemption.

Rena sighed.

The moon above was high, and soft light poured in through an open window, casting a rectangle of white against weather-faded stone. Here, in Sanctuary, Guardian lived and it was here she grew up under his watchful eye. She was seven when her mother died in childbirth, much to her Guardian's dismay, though he tried to hide his grief behind indifference.

So, for half of her life, Rena walked in her ancestor's shoes, taking up her duties at a young age. The blond man needed someone to take care of him—not in body, but in mind and soul. Guardian needed someone to talk to him, to keep him sane, to assure him that he was alive and well. He never admitted to weakness, but Rena knew, perhaps better than her predecessors ever did.

She had a certain empathetic connection to the Planet that even her mother never understood. At night, Rena dreamed of ancient cities with buildings as tall as mountains and of warriors with glowing eyes. Spirits of long ago flitted through these imaginings, regaling her with their lives, significant or not. She saw children born and buried, and lovers come together then torn apart. Dreams of civilizations both primitive and unbelievably advanced graced her in both wakefulness and sleep.

It was because of these dreams, that Rena woke and found herself restless. After leaving her small bedroom she wandered into the main hall, where perhaps six wooden pews stood quietly…upon one of which her Guardian lay, still dressed in his leather armor, metal pauldrons and boots abandoned on the floor. Thus, she found herself watching him…

Why would her mind not quiet?

It was a silly question to ask since the answer was clear. Rena could not find her peace until her Guardian found redemption. After countless years of protecting and guiding humankind, the blond seemed almost oblivious to anything that would sway a normal person's heart. He needed someone to break past his barriers, to free him from his shell. Guardian needed a guardian, but whom?

Human lovers were a pointless pursuit, Rena knew, for the spirits of the Lifestream explained his WEAPON nature. Immortal and incapable of siring offspring…but so desiring of a mate. It was strange when her dreams followed her Guardian's journeys into a heartbreak—lovers of every shape, size, color and gender had walked into his life, only to be disappointed by the fact that their affections could never truly be returned. When he stopped attempting to preserve a sense of humanity through basic comforts, Rena did not know…but Guardian was breaking apart before her eyes. His progression into oblivion was centuries in the making, but he was teetering precariously close to the brink of self-destruction.

Unable to watch any longer, Rena tore her gaze away.

It was strange, she found herself thinking, how in every way he was light, she was dark. Contrasting in appearance yet oddly complimentary in behavior—a mutualism seeded and grown through countless generations.

Eyes of dark-umber—ones that glint faintly of gold in the sunlight—fell upon the alter before which many had come to pray. Men and women knew of Guardian's existence and whispered of his deeds. They heralded him a divine warrior, a fallen angel, a demon seeking his absolution…when in truth, he was but a mortal man cursed with immortality's blessing. A man who carried out the will of the Planet through protecting humankind and guiding them on the path towards reconstructing their broken world.

This very church was once a ruin, Rena knew, but with careful hands it was rebuilt and the landscape cleansed of rubble. It was a lonely place. A stark, white structure standing proud amidst the wild, dark-green tangles of nature. How long it took her Guardian and her ancestors to create this place was a mystery, but in the end, it did not matter how…or how long…

Did anything matter in the end?

Rena clasped her hands together and gazed up at the elaborate mural that adorned the wall. Emerald hues bathed cold stone in surreal light, said green forming tendrils that entwined with azure shades as well as those of black. Framed by these colors, was a female figure clad in elaborate armor, her face expressionless, her eyes piercing.

A faint, but familiar hum sang in Rena's ears, and so, she knelt.

"Planet…are you listening?" She asked—her voice quiet and respectful.

_'Child of mine…' _Gaia sang in Her chorus of a thousand voices. _'I always hear your prayers.'_

"Why do I dream of the past and it's nightmares? With each passing night, the terrors grip me stronger…I am afraid."

_'It is wise to never forget the past, lest history repeats itself. A warning, child of mine, these dreams of which I share. A warning that something is coming…a crisis. May this knowledge prevent needless death and sorrows.'_

Rena shivered, the voice of the Planet was a powerful one and to have Gaia speaking into her mind was a rattling experience. But she held strong. She had to know…

"When? And what form will the crisis take?"

A pause.

_'Time…names…none of it I know nor care to know. Such is human trifles. But I sense it coming, child of mine, whether it arises in next turn or after the next thousand, I cannot say. Nor do I know of what it consists. Much like when Calamity from the skies emerged, I can only sense the danger, not what shape it will take or exactly when it will wreak havoc.'_

"What can I do?"

_'Wait, child of mine, that is all.'_

She could sense the Planet receding as another question burned into the forefront of her mind, urgent almost to the point of panic.

_'You wish to ask a question, child of mine?'_

Rena swallowed the dry lump in her throat. Butterflies fluttered in her gut, and the words spilled from her lips before she could restrain them.

"What of your Guardian?"

_'He will do as he was born to do. My son will meet the crisis upon its emergence.'_

"I…I do not think he will…Planet, forgive me for my boldness, but your son…he is pain. He aches for something you have taken away and it is breaking him apart."

Strangely enough, Gaia's hum became thoughtful if not somewhat sad.

_'I feel his sorrows, child of mine.'_

"Planet, he is lonely. Too many deaths have made him leery of love and trust. He speaks often of sleep and how he wishes to do as his brothers and make his rest eternal."

_'He is WEAPON.'_

"He was once human," Rena whispered and she could feel Her hesitation…her reluctant acknowledgment.

_'Humans seek…mates. Desire offspring. My son is not human any longer.'_

"Then is there another…like him?"

_'My guardians are all sons.' _Gaia's remark was oddly dry.

"So there is another…"

_'My youngest WEAPON…was unique.'_

"Was, not is…Please Planet, if I crisis is coming, you will need your chosen Guardian to be strong. What harm can come of waking another of your sons if it makes you stronger and safer?"

_'You ask of me a great deal, child of mine. And you are but a mere human.'_

Rena drew in a shuddering breath, Gaia's divine might weighed heavily upon her, testing the girl's strength of will. Sweat beaded upon her brow as pain erupted in her skull. Tears, hot and heavy, began to streak down her face.

"Please…for him. I ask of you this for his happiness because he refuses to do so himself. My family and he are entwined, and I would do anything for him. Anything…" She felt so small; so insignificant as the melody of the Planet raised into a deafening crescendo.

_ 'There is much that you do not understand, child of mind.' _It was a warning. It was her last chance to back away. Rena braced herself against the floor and pressed close against the cool stone.

"Anything…" She repeated,"…anything it takes for your chosen son to find peace with himself. If he continues as he is, whatever crises lies ahead will likely consume him. Please. He needs to find a reason to be strong."

_'Very well, child of mine, I will grant you this wish.'_

Joy bloomed in Rena's heart and she would have smiled had a wave of pain not crashed heavily upon her.

_'But now you must bear the weight of its cost.'_

It was if all of the Planet's history flooded her body, igniting every nerve and assaulting her senses. She would have screamed had she been able to breathe. So this was the price of her Guardian's happiness? Memories, so many memories…it was like living and dying a thousand lives over. So much pain…it was too much…

And then, everything slowed…

It was when she saw the sculpted, angelic features of Jenova's son that Rena realized that she was immersed in her Guardian's memories.

**A/N: (Mini cliffhanger I guess. I know I promises Seph in this chapter, but then I realized that I needed to lay a little more foundation before doing so. Next chapter, said meeting is in the rough draft, so hopefully it will stay there. But yeah~ I hope you enjoyed his chapter and will review! They make me smile and keep writing. I mean, yeah, I love to write, but I'll admit to being a sucker for a little flattery. Anywho~)**


	12. Chapter Eleven

**I would like to thank everyone who reviewed or added this story to their alerts and/or favorites! Thank you so much, it is you who keeps me writing, and (in case you hadn't noticed) the more response I get back, the faster these updates become. **

**A/N: **Installment twelve!

I'm back! Review please.

**Rating (Chapter): T **

**Words: **2,101

**Summary: **Living forever is a blessing and a curse, one that strips away everything that once defined you. After 500 years and his share of tribulation, Cloud Strife stands as the immortal guardian of human kind. Will a prayer answered and a crisis' emergence, give rise to the only thing he ever desired? CloudxSephiroth. Alternate Universe. M-PREG. Dark.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters; I am merely abusing them for my entertainment and for the entertainment of others.

**Guardian**

**By Catsitta**

**Chapter Eleven:**

_ "Good to see you…Cloud." _

_ Eyes of piercing green, bright with insanity as well as Lifestream's shine. Hair like molten silver, glinting in the light. A voice, deep and sultry. Taunting. Arrogant. Commanding. The warrior wielded a sword as long as a man is tall with deadly ease. And with the blond Guardian, he danced. _

_ It was a dangerous breed of courtship, the way they moved through the steps of battle, neither allowing the other to gain the upper hand. Calamity's son, however, was persistent, driving his opponent to the brink and using inhuman strength to obliterate the scene. _

_ Guardian let out a ragged breath, his face stained with blood._

_ He was a warrior at heart._

_ There was nothing he did not cherish. Did not seek to protect._

_ And thus, he dove into the fray, again and again._

_ Slowly, the scene shifted, haunting laughter filling the flickering void._

"I will never be just a memory."

_"Cloud. I love you."_

_ Deep sable eyes, long dark hair, a fragile, broken smile. _

_ Guardian held her close in his embrace, his emotions wrought with turmoil. He could never give her a normal life. She was better off without him. Another lover could give her the support she needed and the devotion she deserved, as well as the family she craved with all of her heart._

_ So he left her behind. A childhood friend. The only precious thing he had left. _

_ He could hear her crying._

_ It was for the best._

_ Again, the world seemed to melt away, replaced by brief flashes of friends…allies…heroes._

_ A crimson eyed gunman with a ninja princess at his side. A foul-mouth pilot, spear aloft as he cleared through a room full of foes. A grumpy, dark-skinned man with a gun for an arm held a small, laughing child on his shoulders, a rare smile on his face. A strange, red beast carried a toy cat on his shoulders. _

_ A flower girl died before an alter._

_ Innocent sacrifice._

_ Call for Holy._

_ "Daddy, why do you never change?"_

_ A small girl with cobalt eyes and a sweeping cascade of dark curls looks up at him. Guardian's heart aches as he wonders what Amarissa would think of her daughter, so full of wonder and life. So full of passion and ambition._

_ "I'm different…" He says._

_ Then suddenly the child is grown. A woman in her own right, a sword in hand. Steel flashed and crimson stained her skin. _

_ A man with copper eyes appears…_

_ And the girl is dressed in white, standing before an army, reluctantly exchanging vows for the sake of peace._

_ Everyone then faded into a wash of snow. A barren scape. A figure cloaked in gray._

_ A promise was made. Children bound to its promise._

_ Some are joyful, taking upon the burden with stride. They raise families and treat Guardian like an always present father that sometimes needed a woman's influence to smooth his edges. Others do not take well to it and try to escape. They beg and plead and call it the voices inside their head a curse. A few even fall to madness, forced to return to Guardian's side to find reprieve._

_ There was one, however, with copper-colored skin, with nut-colored hair and umber eyes, that saw neither a father or tormentor in him. She instead saw a man wrought with loneliness. A man in need of healing. She embraces him, kisses him, and tries to convince him it is okay that he could never give her children. But the years go by, and even she falters, the ingrained desire to produce an heir too strong to ignore. _

_ Guardian watches as she disappears one night into a local village. She does not come home until morning, and nine months later, a child is cradled in her arms. They pretend it is their own. But the blond Guardian knows better. Yet he is reluctant to deny her this fantasy._

_ This woman is Rena's grandmother. A woman whom died peacefully in her sleep while her daughter fought against her fate. _

_ Hatred burned in the girl's eyes. She feels worthless. Filthy. She cannot believe her mother would bed a stranger to entertain the sick dreams of having a child with the family's protector. For years she scorns him, fights the flow of destiny. But a mother's love could not protect her from the consequences of her actions. _

_ The woman, haggard with exhaustion, collapses at Guardian's feet the day after her own mother's death. She is thirty years of age, but she looks so much older. Wrinkles marred a once beautiful face, and deep bruises circle sunken eyes. There she cries until she can no longer remain awake, muttering about dirt she could never clean away._

_ Guardian tends to his healer with timeless patience, feeling guilty about the woman's condition. But there was only so much he could do. It was not as if he would hold hostage the women who were tied to him by the Planet. It would pain him deeply to do that, it would be like clipping the wings of a bird and locking it away in a cage and expecting it to sing. They would break. _

_ Eventually, the woman recovers but her depression remains. It deepens when a farmer, gray from heavy labor in the fields, seeks a quiet place to connect with the Divine. His whole family had been slaughtered by bandits and his home burned to the ground, and he himself left for dead. Scars remain of that day, both physically and emotionally, and he often sat staring off into distance at the backmost pew. _

_ Guardian watched the pair grow closer. They talked of burdens and trials. They talked of family and broken dreams. Then one day, the farmer dropped to one knee and made a slow but heartfelt proposal. He was no poet, but neither was the woman he had fallen in love with._

_ Their pregnancy was a quiet one. Neither were much for celebration. Then she heard the crying of an infant._

_ Rena knew it to be herself._

_ Years flickered by quickly. Guardian observed in near silence as the most fragile of his charges tended the gardens her and her husband grew together. He approved of her healing. _

_ So it came as no surprise to him when her womb swelled again with life. Again, the couple went along in life, careful to inform Rena of her duties as a big sister. After all, she was almost seven. But that peaceful silence was broken one day, six months into the pregnancy, the farmer collapsed in the gardens from a stroke. He never woke._

_ Stress from the loss of the only person she ever loved took a heavy toll on the woman. A few days later, she went into labor premature. _

_ Guardian did what he could, having experience in matters relating to child birth, but the child was lost before he was born. Too small and unresponsive. Stillborn. The mother had already given up on living. There was nothing he could do. She possessed no will to continue._

_ He bent his head as if to weep, but no tears were shed._

_ Once again, he was alone in raising an orphaned child._

_ Rena heard her younger self scream and the sound shattered the image, and the pieces fell away into dust._

With the world of memories collapsed, leaving her laying breathless against the floor, Rena tried to contain her racing thoughts. She remained for a long while, her entire body aching. When she at least found reason to stand, the girl noticed that the room felt eerily empty.

Guardian, whom had been fast asleep last she had seen, was gone.

_'The price has been paid, child of mine.' _The Planet sang, as if sensing her confusion,_'You will learn the extent of the cost when the time comes…But I hold true to my bargains. My son seeks his mate now.'_

000X000

Cloud felt it. A stirring in the very Lifestream. Friend or foe, he did not know, but he sensed it was very powerful. Powerful enough to be a threat.

As a WEAPON, it was his duty to intercept and exterminate anything that could endanger the Planet.

So he ran. And ran. And ran. Had he been human he would have felt the pains for overexertion and the pangs of hunger and thirst. But he knew not mortal weakness anymore. He was immortal, eternal, everlasting. There was no such thing as need. Yet…

But before he could venture onto that thought, to consider need or even desire, Cloud felt the Lifestream swell and break. He was close.

Summoning First Tsurugi, the blond warrior made his approach. He as was as stealthy as possible, since he did not know what lurked ahead. It did not help that he was at the heart of what once was the Gongagan jungle. But, despite his efforts, he stepped upon a small plant made of brittle stems. They snapped beneath his boot, causing Cloud to hesitate and peer through gaps in the thick greenery.

His sword brushed against a thorny bush, rattling the leaves.

Then all went silent. He dared not breathe.

It was the voice of a stranger that broke through the air with a shout and a swipe of a sword through the undergrowth. "Who are you!" The stranger, a man by the sound of it, demanded.

Cloud brushed aside the plants and stepped forwards, nearly losing his head to a flash of crimson steel. The blond rolled to the side and caught the other man's blade with his own. Who was this man?

He looked to be a bedraggled mess. Long auburn hair lay in mako-soaked clumps against pale skin. Eyes of once blue were murky to the point of being almost gray. And from his body hung a tattered red trench coat and a familiar black uniform. This man…this man was a SOLDIER.

"I demand to know your name!" The SOLDIER snarled, but he was weak and his grip on his sword faltered. As the weapon hit the ground, the man leapt backwards and tried to look as intimidating as possible despite having his back pressed against a stone pillar. It was then that Cloud noticed something shiny and mangled laying limp at the man's side. It was black and feathered. A wing.

"Who are you?" Cloud asked, assessing the man warily as he once again crept forwards.

"None of your business. Now leave!"

Haughty. Arrogant. Temperamental. These words sprung to mind as the Guardian of the Planet listened to the man speak. He used to be a man of influence and power, yet here he was, weak as a newborn bird.

"It is my business. I dispose of all threats to Gaia." The sword in his hands had seen more than its fair share of blood at the whim of the Guardian's master.

The man's eyes widened. Death was apparently not a welcome prospect. "No. I won't let you kill me…or him for that matter."—he sighed, as if he had lost his fight to continue arguing the matter— "Just…just leave. As you can tell, I am not a threat to anything. All I'm doing is trying to protect a friend."

"A friend?"

Cloud opened his awareness and realized that the man spoke the truth.

They were near a river of mako, where the Planet bled Lifestream for one reason or another. From this wound she could expel whatever ailed her, be it mortal creature or WEAPON. And it appeared she had just spit out two men. The one that stood before him now, and the one that lay no more a few yards away.

Without hesitation, the blond made his way to the other man, the one clad in crimson hot at his heels, his retrieved weapon in hand.

"Leave us alone," the SOLDIER pleaded, his tone bespeaking long years spent in Gaia's womb. He was tired. He just wanted himself and his friend to be alone. But Cloud could not allow that.

So he pushed aside branches and leaves until the river was in plain view. And that was when he saw him.

Clad in black with a tangled curtain of silver hair was none other than Sephiroth.

Instinctively, Cloud launched forwards as if to slay the unconscious man where he lay. But before he could touch cold steel against unfeeling flesh, something stopped him. His mind raced. His heart pounded.

It was then that a new nightmare was realized.

Both the stranger and Sephiroth were putting off a particular aura. One that signified them as equals…brothers….Guardians of the Planet.

**A/N: ( Yay, we finally meet Sephy! And Gen-Gen. Hehe, bet none of ya'll were expecting that. Anywho, keep looking for familiar faces as the story progresses. **

**Review please!)**


	13. Chapter Twelve

**I would like to thank everyone who reviewed or added this story to their alerts and/or favorites! Thank you so much, it is you who keeps me writing, and (in case you hadn't noticed) the more response I get back, the faster these updates become. **

**A/N: **Installment thirteen

Review please!

**Side note**: This is a Cloud x Sephiroth story. For those whom are concerned, there will be no Genesis x Cloud x Sephiroth triangle.

**Rating (Chapter): T **

**Words: **1,196

**Summary: **Living forever is a blessing and a curse, one that strips away everything that once defined you. After 500 years and his share of tribulation, Cloud Strife stands as the immortal guardian of human kind. Will a prayer answered and a crisis' emergence, give rise to the only thing he ever desired? CloudxSephiroth. Alternate Universe. M-PREG. Dark.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters; I am merely abusing them for my entertainment and for the entertainment of others.

**Guardian**

**By Catsitta**

**Chapter twelve:**

It took a few minutes for the information to process. After all, the Nightmare, Sephiroth, the very bane of the Planet's existence—was now Her son and his brother. And there was something else decidedly…off. Did the silver-haired demon look prettier than before? More effeminate . His striking locks were definitely longer, probably reaching the man's ankles should he stand. And his frame looked delicate…softer. And then Cloud realized something. All of the muscle that used to make the man a walking wall of muscle, was now gone, giving the warrior an almost unhealthy, emaciated figure.

Feeling his disgust and rage ebb away, replaced with calm concern, Cloud turned to look at the auburn stranger whom stood at his elbow. He too was too thin, even for a male of slender build. Atrophied muscles could scarcely keep the man upright, and holding his sword was an obvious effort.

But why? Why did they wither and weaken? Cloud could recall his own rebirth. How Gaia rebuilt and preserved him in Her womb before pushing him to the surface. These men…these broken, out of place men were just that. Men. Jenova's taint lingered in their blood, for the blond WEAPON could sense it, but the cells were dormant and otherwise nullified.

Confused and frustrated with his situation, the Guardian sighed.

"I will ask you again: Who are you?" Cloud asked the stranger, whom, briefly, stared back with stubborn pride, only to shudder with resignation.

"Commander Genesis Rhapsodos. SOLDIER First Class…Though I doubt those titles mean anything to you."

Cloud shook his head,"They mean more to I than anyone else, brother."

The auburn man's eyesbrows rose nearly to his hairline. "I beg your pardon?"

"Welcome to your new life, Genesis, where names are as meaningless as time itself. You are a WEAPON now. Eternal. Ageless. Destined to protect the Planet and abide by Her will." Cloud motioned to Sephiroth,"As is he…much to my displeasure."

A slight frown appeared on Genesis's lips,"What dispute have you with my friend?"

"Your friend," the blond stated with an edge to his voice,"is my mortal enemy. A man who tried to destroy the Planet on three separate occasions and nearly succeeded twice. He burned down my home, killed millions of innocent people, summoned Meteor, created the Geostigma, and ruined my life. If it was not for him, I would have lived and died like a normal human should! Instead, I am Golden WEAPON. Protector of humanity. Guardian against all things Crisis."

Genesis shook his head with disbelief,"He is a good man…better than I…A fact I grew accustomed to during my stint at Minerva's side as her chosen warrior."

"Who?"

"Minerva. The Goddess of the Lifestream. How could you not know of her, for it is she who bespoke of the three heroes at world's end. It is her word written in LOVELESS…" and then the man paused, as if unable to grasp onto his thoughts. "I…I cannot remember."

"Cannot remember what exactly?"

"LOVELESS. I knew the tale by heart. I could quote each line at an opportune moment. But alas! The words escape me…they…but how? Would not my Goddess wish me to remember her prophecy?"

Cloud, confused and irritated by the man's flakey and suddenly theatric behavior, returned his attention to Sephiroth. The man was comatose, filthy and likely ill. If there was any time to forgive, it appeared now was it. Gathering the man into his arms, ignoring the feel of crystalized mako against his skin, Cloud turned and headed in the direction of the nearest body of fresh water.

Genesis, whom had become a muttering wreck, at last fell silent and followed. Whether it was out of concern for himself or for his friend, the blond neither knew nor cared.

000X000

It to a week to reach home again. With clean but still unconscious Sephiroth in his arms, and an obnoxious Genesis at his heels, Cloud was ready to return some sense of stability back into his life. A nap was certainly due, if only to get his thoughts straight.

The doors of the church opened before he reached them.

"Rena," Cloud murmured, his eyes searching for the girl in the shadows. "Come here. I need your assistance."

"Yes, Guardian." And with that, his ward came into view, her countenance strangely gray with weariness. She was not sleeping well. But that was not struck him as odd. Her umber eyes settled not on Sephiroth, but rather flicked evenly between him and Genesis. "These are your brothers?"

Cloud nodded.

"I bid thee both welcome," Rena said,"WEAPONS Crimson and Silver. May you make our home your own."

Genesis strode forwards, a wry grin on his lips as he offered Rena a gentlemanly bow,"Crimson is what Minevra named me, little one. Do call me Genesis. And he," he swept a hand towards the silver-haired man in Cloud's arms,"Is Sephiroth."

"I know. But those are human names, of which you both are no longer. Since it would be confusing to refer to all three of you as Guardian, as I have the Golden WEAPON, I will call you Crimson and Silver. Anything else would be inappropriate."

Scowling, Genesis straightened and shot Cloud a dark look,"Who is this girl?"

"Rena. My healer and a Prophetess of sorts…Her family hears the Planet speak."

"A duty I am happy to fulfill." The girl said before brushing back a thick curl of hair. "Speaking of which, I have prepared a bed…but it seems I need to prepare another. Need you anything, Guardian?"

"Is a meal in the works as well?"

"Of course."

"Then I need nothing else of you."

Rena curtsied, lifting her plain skirt slightly before walking away.

"You demean a woman in such a way!" Genesis scoffed once Rena disappeared into the back rooms.

"She does only what she wishes," Cloud replied lightly as he carried Sephiroth towards the guest room. "I force nothing from her. Rena's actions are all out of familial dedication and her love. Should she ask it of me, I would allow her any freedoms she desires."—he paused—"Rena is of suiting age. I suspect she will soon search for a husband."

"Husband? That girl is a child!"

"She is fourteen. A girl will often marry by sixteen."

Genesis looked appalled but said nothing more. Instead, he flexed his injured wing in an indignant manner before storming outside, leaving Cloud to wonder how he of all people ended up a WEAPON. Yes, there was a warrior's spirit in him, but the man was highly emotional, much unlike any other WEAPON, and had a stubborn, almost arrogant streak. He was the kind of man that became angry or jealous at the drop of a hat—willing to change sides if it means preserving his pride.

Dangerous. Yes. He was definitely dangerous.

But he was an issue to settle another day. At the moment, Cloud had a past to reconcile with. Sephiroth would need regular baths, feeding and general care until he returned to consciousness. Much like himself when Amarissa found him. But there were so many questions in his mind, bothering him to no end. The most prominent of which was why.

000**TBC**000

**A/N: ( Review please! )**


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**I would like to thank everyone who reviewed or added this story to their alerts and/or favorites! Thank you so much, it is you who keeps me writing, and (in case you hadn't noticed) the more response I get back, the faster these updates become. **

**A/N: **Installment fourteen!

Review please!

**Rating (Chapter): T **

**Words: **976

**Summary: **Living forever is a blessing and a curse, one that strips away everything that once defined you. After 500 years and his share of tribulation, Cloud Strife stands as the immortal guardian of human kind. Will a prayer answered and a crisis' emergence, give rise to the only thing he ever desired? CloudxSephiroth. Alternate Universe. M-PREG. Dark.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters; I am merely abusing them for my entertainment and for the entertainment of others.

**Guardian**

**By Catsitta**

**Chapter thirteen:**

It was all so confusing…so strange. One minute he had been standing beside his goddess, Minerva, and the next, he was drowning in darkness. He had promised himself to her, to be her champion and warrior…her hero. And that promise he thought was an eternal vow of dedication, for in return for his pledge, he had what he desired most.

But now, he stood beside his beloved goddess no longer. Instead he was in a world starkly unfamiliar to the one he left behind…the world that turned him from man into monster.

Lost in his thoughts, Genesis did not notice a small figure approach.

"Crimson." Said Rena.

Only hard earned composure kept him from jumping,"What is it?"

The girl did not touch him; rather, she drew beside him and stood uncomfortably close within his personal space bubble. Those honey-tinted eyes of hers were focused on the gardens in which Genesis had retreated to upon his arrival. With the tiniest of smiles, she replied,"You are upset."

Genesis grunted and brushed back auburn bangs with an elaborate gesture. He was the picture of cool and collected, calm and composed. After all, he was not yelling or throwing things about like a madman, ranting on about how he despised Sephiroth for being so damned perfect, and how he wished people would stop comparing the two of them…

"Your friend will awake when he is ready, Crimson. Perhaps then you will realize how your fears no longer have bias."

"Pardon?"

Rena smoothed her skirts, still not looking at him,"You never hated him. He was your brother in arms and in heart. You were rivals and friends, inseparable in every way. He needs you as you do him, especially through these trials that will lie ahead."

"You know nothing—" Genesis began, only to have himself cut off by the girl's steady gaze meeting his own. She was infinitely older in mind than body, and could feel something strange about her…something familiar. Something not quite right.

"Knowledge and understanding are two different things, Crimson. What I know is more than even I can understand. Piece-by-piece I must put together the puzzle of life so that I may interpret my own purpose in this world. But you, I can see very clearly where you fall. So complex…yet so simple." Rena turned and began to gather her hair up into a ribbon,"Be patient, Crimson, and stay strong."

Genesis pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a short breath, dramatizing his displeasure.

"Dinner will be ready soon," the girl said with preamble—as if their entire conversation had not occurred. "Do come inside and rest. The nights can be bitterly cold here."

"Why is a child acting as nursemaid to grown men?" The question was asked in a crueler tone than intended, but Rena seemed unaffected…unfazed.

"Because it is my duty to care for my Guardian. He may be WEAPON now, but like you and Silver, he was once human. And human born WEAPONS possess empathy, though it wanes with time, and need a sense of purpose…of family. Without it—without my family and myself—he would have neglected himself. Through that neglect he would have forced an early slumber, making it very difficult for the Planet to wake him should a Crisis come."

There was a long pause between them, the air static. Genesis wanted to make a snide remark, but found himself holding his tongue—too tired to argue. Wearily, he allowed his body to visibly slump, his wing twitching meekly.

Rena patted his shoulder, her fingers just barely brushing against the base of his extra appendage. Pain lanced through the limb, causing him to flinch. And then, gentle fingers worked around the swollen joint where the wing met his shoulder blade, applying the slightest of pressure.

"It seems that Silver is not the only one who is healing…but you've had longer to rest than he…and less to mend…less to break." Curiosity washed over Genesis as Rena's hand fell away. "I suspect within the next few days you will be able rebuild your strength." She smiled brightly at him for just a wink, before slipping out of the gardens and back into the church, leaving him dreadfully alone.

000X000

Cloud stood like a sentinel—a dark, brooding statue of a man—as he watched his arch enemy sleep.

His new…brother.

A grimace worked its way onto his lips and disgust was tying knots in his gut. How he wanted to slit the man's throat. To end all the suffering before it could begin. It is because of Sephiroth that he was a WEAPON. If it was not for his fall into madness, Cloud would have found his end long ago. This world he would not know. He would have never seen human kind become so fearful of technology that they stunted its growth. He would have never watched those with ideas become culled from the herd. He would have never watched countless wars ensue over pointless beliefs…pointless fears.

He would have become part of the Lifestream…his soul a piece in the patchwork of memories that created life itself.

But there was no changing the past.

He was stuck as a WEAPON and now, so was his eternal rival.

Though there was something very off about the man. Something about him just sent off warning bells inside Cloud's head, making it impossible for him to ignore the silver-haired warrior. Add in the fact that he felt compelled to _touch_. Yes, touch. It was an idea he scoffed at, but he wanted to tangle his fingers in those silky locks as much as he wanted to use that thick fall of hair to strange Sephiroth in his sleep.

"Why couldn't you stay in my memories?"

000**TBC**000

**A/N: (Review please! Oh, and check out the new poll on my profile. Thankies~ Also, Sephy-kins will wake up soon.)**


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**I would like to thank everyone who reviewed or added this story to their alerts and/or favorites! Thank you so much, it is you who keeps me writing, and (in case you hadn't noticed) the more response I get back, the faster these updates become. **

**A/N: **Installment fifteen!

I realize that this took longer than it should have…but I've been busy and distracted. Anywho~ I'm working on couple one shots rather avidly (one of which has turned into one heck of a monstrosity in length), and my chapter fics seem to be mocking me.

It really is irritating to stare at a half-finished sentence and realize that, until you get past it, the story cannot continue. I really want to finish some of these chapters! –sighs- But I'm ranting. And a little edgy. Call me paranoid, but I have a feeling that this time of year is awful for posting new chapters of anything (glances at Aftermath). Hopefully this will get more than two reviews or I think I might go nuts…or cry…Then again, stress is already killing my muse...

Meh! I'm rambling. Thanks for reading and do enjoy this update. It's long overdue.

Review please!

**Rating (Chapter): T **

**Words: **1,560

**Summary: **Living forever is a blessing and a curse, one that strips away everything that once defined you. After 500 years and his share of tribulation, Cloud Strife stands as the immortal guardian of human kind. Will a prayer answered and a crisis' emergence, give rise to the only thing he ever desired? CloudxSephiroth. Alternate Universe. M-PREG. Dark.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters; I am merely abusing them for my entertainment and for the entertainment of others.

**Guardian**

**By Catsitta**

**Chapter fourteen:**

The days passed into weeks, and soon, a month had gone by.

Cloud did as he had done for centuries—watched and waited, observing the world and tending the needs of his small family.

Genesis showed significant improvement under his and Rena's care, a vibrancy returned to him that quickly proved annoying. He seemed determined to remember the words of LOVELESS and would often mutter aloud broken phrases at any given moment. And more often than not, the man was training, refusing to allow his body time to heal properly before trying to build it back up. He hurt himself twice, worsened his wing injury and collapsed from exhaustion on multiple occasions, but he was at last reaching the brink of recovery.

On the other hand, Sephiroth seemed no closer to waking than he had been a month earlier.

He was healthier but still unconscious and dreadfully thin. Without the muscular build that made him a fearsome warrior, the man looked like a doll…so very fragile. Almost as if he would break if handled without caution. Cloud knew better, however, than to underestimate the comatose SOLDIER. If he was truly a WEAPON, then it would take more than normal means to kill him…permanently.

How hard it was to resist temptation. How he craved to sink his blade deep into the prone form before him. How he wished for the rich crimson of blood to bathe pale skin.

How he wished the Nightmare that haunted him as a youth would go back to being an old, unforgotten memory. Tattered and stained, but just a reminder of once was and could have been.

"Why did Gaia return you to life?" He asked the silver-haired warrior, whom continued to sleep. His hair was clean and tangle free, Cloud had brushed it rather than used it as a rope and it was a puddle of liquid steel beneath alabaster glass. "Could She not sleep with you in Her blood? Was Jenova's taint too much for Her to handle? Is this a sign of what is to come?" There was no response. "The Planet did not preserve you. She was trying to destroy the Calamity. Yet here you are a weak, helpless shell of a man! A monster…"

Bitter words gained no reaction. Thus, Cloud bowed his head and wept without tears.

000X000

Genesis watched from the rafters, high above the alter, as three cloaked strangers shuffled through the doors of the church. Blisteringly cold air swept in behind them, a reminder of the harshness of the mountain weather. He tilted his head, confused to as why there was a constant influx of people that came here despite its remote location.

He never asked, but he was certain Rena and the Guardian knew.

Speaking of whom…the young girl was sweeping the floor, humming softly, when the people came in. She turned her eyes upwards, smiling faintly upon noticing their presence.

"Welcome travelers," she began,"need you a place to rest for the night?"

The tallest and by the far the bulkiest person Genesis had seen since his reawakening, pulled back his hood. The auburn SOLDIER gasped and almost lost his balance. "It can't be," he murmured. Yet it was. There, appearing exactly as he had from memory, was no one other than Angeal Hewley. He had his dark, wildly arranged hair, his thickset build and cobalt eyes. And his face was one of seriousness, as if he were ready to preach of dreams and honor.

"Yes, we do." Angeal said, his voice the same as before. "But…" He seemed uncomfortable.

The second tallest figure threw back his hood,"Can you marry two people of different social class?" Genesis shook his head with disbelief. What kind of war was the Planet planning on fighting? Standing beside Angeal was another familiar face, Zack Fair.

"Minerva bless," he whispered. The greatest warriors ever to grace the Planet were all assembled. However, he had the impression that these two figures, clearly reminiscent of people he knew all too well, were just…human. No power radiated off of them. Their presence did not scream WEAPON or Brother or anything…

Yet here they were. Perfect copies.

Rena nodded at said copies,"There are no social classes here in Sanctuary."

"Brother, are you sure this what you want." Angeal asked Zack, concern written all over his face. "When you return home, there will be consequences."

Zack ran his fingers through his raven-colored spikes, eyes of aquamarine flickering with uncertainty. Then he shook his head and struck a confident pose,"It doesn't matter. Even if I must work as a mercenary for the rest of my life to keep my family cared for, then I will."

"Being a soldier was your dream. Are you willing to give up your rank after all the work it took to achieve it?"

"Dreams change. After all, you did not want to be a Blacksmith until after…" Zack's voice trailed off.

Angeal, however, seemed to understand the event the younger man was referencing and sighed. "I love you. I always will because you are my little brother. But I do not wish for you to throw your life away for a girl."

"I'm throwing nothing away." Zack shot back, one arm wrapping possessively around the third cloaked figure. "I'm starting a new chapter."

Genesis listened as the pair bickered for a few minutes longer and with great interest watched as the third figure at last drew back her hood. He frowned. The girl he did not recognize. She was not darkly tanned like Angeal and Zack, rather, she was pale as cream. Her eyes were a striking shade of emerald and long, brunette hair tumbled free as she undid the knot that held it in place.

Rena seemed nonchalant as ever, though he swore there was a glimmer in her eye.

"It seems myself and Sephiroth were not the only ones granted a second chance," he murmured, dropping down from the rafters only after the young woman escorted the three visitors into a back room.

000X000

It was the dead of night when Cloud heard footsteps in the hallway.

He had nodded off into a dozy state of half-sleep, but was quick to clear his head. Fully aware, he listened, noticing how the pace was careful…almost as if someone was trying to be quiet…sneaky. The blond, already paranoid by the presence of his arch enemy (of whom he was still with), stood and threw open the door. Cloud glared in the direction of the footsteps, only to find himself blinking with surprise.

All pretense of anger melted away.

"Aerith?"

Clad in modest nightgown and fur-trimmed boots, the brunette was quite the odd sight to see in general. But to him, she was the spitting image of a friend he lost long ago to Sephiroth's madness, and it made what remained of his heart ache with guilt and longing. How he missed her. How he regretted not being able to rescue her in time.

How he death haunted him.

The girl's eyes widened and she shyly glanced away. Then, after a minute, she peeked back up at him, curious. "Hello." She offered in an eerily familiar voice. "Did I disturb you, sir?"

"No."

"Are you alright? You look as if you have seen a ghost."

'_I just have,'_ "I'm fine. You merely remind me of someone I once knew, a long time ago."

"Aerith?" Cloud nodded, and the brunette smiled with understanding,"People say that a lot. I have a common face." _'Nothing is common about you.'_ "Sir…can I ask you a question?"

"Yes."

"Are you the Guardian that everyone tells wild tales about?"

"If those tales are of an immortal warrior with strength beyond his size, an enormous sword and a propensity to not align himself with warring tribes…then yes."

"I see. You don't look much like a demon…or an angel." The girl stated,"In fact, if it wasn't for the glow of your eyes I'd say you were human."

Cloud frowned, but confessed,"I used to be human."

"When did you change?"

"It was too long ago for me to remember when exactly." He had no idea why he was telling an utter stranger these things. She was not Aerith. There was no reason for him to spill his secrets to her! "However, I was young when I lost myself."

"Don't worry, Guardian. You will find your way soon enough."

"What—?"

"This may sound crazy…well, maybe not to you, but I just know. I felt drawn here. To this place. To you. Why I do not know, but now that we've spoken, it is as if a great weight has lifted off of my chest and I can breathe again."

Cloud sighed,"You should go to sleep."

"I will." And then she turned, walking away as if nothing had happened. But before she opened the door to the guest rooms, the brunette said ever so softly,"Tell him that I forgive him…" The blond was tempted to ask who she was forgiving and why, but stopped short, realizing that the girl likely did not know herself.

Returning to his room, Cloud tried to untangle his thoughts.

Only to find them in impossible knots.

Then he felt a shiver crawl down his spine, as if he were being watched.

It was but a heartbeat later that eyes of blue met those of mako green.

**A/N: ( Well, you all wanted Sephy-kins to wake up. So let's get the plot rolling. And yes, I made Zack and Angeal brothers. It's not cannon in the least, but since they're reincarnations of their former selves, five-hundred years into the future, then hey, why not? I mean, honestly, could they look more alike? –watches Crisis Core cutscenes with interest— Then again, there is very little diversity in the FF7 universe it seems. Yeah, eye and hair colors are variant, but why are all but three people in the friggin' world white or 'Wutaian'?Shouldn't there be some regional trademarks, such as light hair and skin for mountainous, dark hair and skin for the tropical areas, etc? (Yes, I realize these are not strict rules to apply due to people moving, but still. In small, isolated towns, as the game claims them to be, there should be a fairly uniform look. But no…) I mean, c'mon!…At least there were tan people in Costa del Sol. I dunno. Okay, I'm ranting…**

**Please review! I love idea cookies and conspiracy theories. )**


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**A/N:**

Installment sixteen!

Anywho…My excuse for not updating sooner? College. I've been on hiatus and this decided to be written. Hope to continue soon!

And many, many thank yous to my reviewers. There was a lot of feedback last chapter and it made me so happy. So very happy.

**Word Count:** 1,351

**Disclaimer: **Nope…still own nothing.

**Guardian**

**By Catsitta**

Chapter fifteen:

_Burning. The world was burning._

_ He drew in a deep breath, flooding his lungs with smoke. Then he felt a wicked smirk twist upon his lips…laughter bubbled and burst from his chest. However, it was a painful affair to have the mockery of joy be ripped from his throat. _'Mother,' _he thought. This was all for Mother. She would be proud of him for wiping away the stain of humanity from the Planet._

"Who are you?" _cried a small voice at the back of his mind. _"What are you doing? Where is your honor?" _He continued to laugh, submerging the annoyance he felt in a wash of madness. Jenova was poisoning his mind, just as she had his body…He knew. He was aware. He wanted to fight against the invasive force whom wished to convert him into an obedient puppet. _

_ But it was as if his mind were split into two. The larger, stronger half being contorted by the wicked lies that Jenova wove. She appealed to his insecurity by claiming him as her son—her perfect monster…a monster destined to be a god. She filled his head with ancient knowledge that made no sense, for it was a rush of images and words in a foreign tongue. She forced the man, the human part of his soul, into the depths of his own unconscious mind. She buried him. Caged him. Bound and silenced him._

_ He tried to speak out but Jenova paid him no heed._

_ Thus his other half, commanded by the bodiless voice called Mother, began to raze the landscape. _

_ Thus he, the fearless General, retreated. There was no winning this battle…nor the next. He would have to wait until he was given a chance…_

_ But who was he? It was difficult to say. His was the sane mind the world once knew as Sephiroth…but Jenova claimed it as the name of her son. Her crazed, crippled pet monster. They shared a body, he and the monster…but that name…that mark of pride was now a mark of unforgiven sins. _

No more_. The General pleaded, aware that his voice fell upon deaf ears. _

_ Eventually, the fire faded from view. He closed himself from Jenova. He curled up and built his barriers high. She would eventually seek to destroy him…He knew it…it was just a matter of time._

_ Darkness followed. A lull of sleep. Weightlessness. He sank into the oblivion of his own consciousness. He lost all awareness. He was suspended in the depths of this internal prison, one crafted by Jenova and reinforced by his own will to endure._

_ Time was lost as well…he knew not how long he slept until he opened his eyes…and saw the light._

Eyes of mako green met those of blue.

Sephiroth's breath hitched as he realized his own consciousness. Why did Jenova allow him control? Where was her spiteful whispering?

And then it crashed down upon him. Pain. Ungodly, unholy agony! He could feel his pupils contract and his muscle seize…it felt as if someone had unleashed a mastered lightning spell within his chest. He gritted his teeth, if only to prevent himself from causing undue harm to himself. No wonder Jenova was silent, the bitch had abandoned him once she knew his body was dying…worthless for her cause.

The General gasped and might have retched had his body been functioning properly.

What exactly had been done to him? Who had done this to him?

Suddenly, blue eyes were centered in his vision. Eerily bright and mako-stained, filled with a sea of conflict and grief unbefitting the age of their holder…they were SOLDIER eyes. And the youth staring down at him wore a grim line instead of smile and if he was correct, amongst the conflict in those eyes, there was hatred. A deep, primal hatred.

Was this possibly his murderer? Was this boy the creature whom put his physical self in such a state that Jenova abandoned him for a lost cause?

Sephiroth was uncertain if he should thank the stranger or not. He was sane and free…but dying…By the Goddess, after having no control over his body for who knows how long…he had awoken for his own death!

It was about this point that the General realized he was screaming.

The boy blinked slowly, observing his pain with nonchalance. Then, wordlessly, he reached forwards and began to stroke Sephiroth's face. Callouses of a warrior marked those small hands…then said hands trailed to his throat. The boy bent closer, his lips brushing against the General's ear,"You should have stayed asleep…Sephiroth." Then those hands encircled his throat and pressure applied.

His body still convulsed with pain, out of his control. There was nothing Sephiroth could do to shake the boy off of him. To prevent the quickening of his end…He flexed his jaw, attempting to speak, but his oxygen supply was cut off. The General immediately felt the effects…his vision blurring. Then, he dropped like a rock into unconsciousness, his last glimpse of the world the face of his murderer.

A boy…just a boy. Blond and blue-eyed…

Why did this stranger feel so familiar?

000X000

In another room, Genesis jerked awake.

Sweat streamed down his face and shoulders and there was a sharp ache in his chest. The auburn SOLDIER gripped himself, splaying his palm flat and clenching his fingers. Every muscle in his back twitched and his wing had stretched to fill the room. Feathers covered everything. But his mind was not on his molting plumage…

No. His mind was filled with images, words…a phantom pain that did not belong to himself. Echoes of screaming danced in his skull…Genesis threw back his head and groaned.

_'Brother!'_ cried a small voice.

And then, the pain fled as quickly as it came…the SOLDIER panted, trying to catch his breath. It was within the next heartbeat that Genesis had cast away his blanket and began to fumble towards the door. He knew on some strange, subconscious level that Sephiroth had awoken.

000X000

Cloud stared down at the limp figure beneath him. Pale yet warm. The rise and fall of his chest ever so slight. Bruises were budding where his fingers met the tender skin of Sephiroth's neck, and reluctantly, he pulled away. It would be so easy to finish the job, to snuff out the bastard that cursed him to be a WEAPON. He wanted to so badly…

Instead, the blond Guardian restrained himself. Falling back into a chair and staring at the man laying prone on the bed. Sephiroth was still healing. He was still sick. Just by the color of his eyes Cloud knew. They were a nauseating shade of green, so vividly bright with inner glow that his pupils were all but invisible. It made him look even more alien than before. Even more like a monster.

Swallowing his hatred, Cloud picked up a hairbrush, careful to monitor his own strength so as not to break the wooden handle. Fine bristles met sweat slick tangles…and once again he began to smooth the silver locks. Why, he had no idea…but it seemed to be the only act that he could do calmly. Even feedings and baths were a frustrated affair that had his whole body quivering with the pent up urge to kill.

"You need to sleep," Cloud murmured. For some reason he felt slight guilty for his chosen method of knocking Sephiroth back unconscious…a few seconds earlier it had seemed utterly satisfying.

The door slammed open.

Genesis scrambled through sleep tousled, covered in loose feathers and with a quilt wrapped about his hips. "Is he…?"

"He was…"

"What…?" his eyes fell upon the bruises on Sephiroth's throat. Then the auburn man literally growled "You bastard!" before lunging at the blond. Cloud nimbly avoided Genesis, slipping from his chair and catching the man by a handful of hair. The SOLDIER let out an outraged shriek, but the blond merely shrugged and forced the taller man to sit. Before he could reinstate a fight, the Guardian shoved the hairbrush into Genesis' hands and walked away, shutting the door behind him.

**A/N: ( I'm a tease. I know it. Don't worry, Sephy-kins will wake up and stay awake very soon. Thank you for reading and please review! Feedback is very important to me.)**


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**I would like to thank everyone who reviewed or added this story to their alerts and/or favorites! Thank you so much, it is you who keeps me writing!**

**A/N: **Installment seventeen!

College has kept me busy, but I have found time to write. This was, however, the chapter I managed to complete. Thanks oodles to everyone who has been patient with me and my elusive plotline thus far. I hope that this chapter gets the ball rolling nicely.

**Chapter Note: **Treat _italic_ passages as "dream sequences". For whom should be easy to figure out.

**Rating (Chapter): T**

**Words: **2,471

**Summary: **Living forever is a blessing and a curse, one that strips away everything that once defined you. After 500 years and his share of tribulation, Cloud Strife stands as the immortal guardian of human kind. Will a prayer answered and a crisis' emergence, give rise to the only thing he ever desired? CloudxSephiroth. Alternate Universe. M-PREG. Dark.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters; I am merely abusing them for my entertainment and for the entertainment of others.

**Guardian**

**By Catsitta**

**Chapter sixteen:**

_"When the war of the beasts brings about world's end, the Goddess descends from the sky. Wings of light and dark spread afar she guides us to bliss. Her gift everlasting."_

_"LOVLESS, Prologue." _

_"You remember?"_

_"As I mentioned before, how could I forget when you have beaten it into my head?"_

_"And here I thought you had developed a taste for the art of poetry."_

_"I am a man of war, Genesis."_

_"That is no excuse to be an uncultured brute, Sephiroth."_

_"Hmph."_

_"Thus the incomprehensible grunting begins…To think, the most charismatic man on the Planet is a master ineloquence when it comes to matters outside that of business."_

_"Hmph."_

_"Never one to waste words…or use them. But I digress, what brings you here?"_

_"Your injury…"_

_"Think nothing of it, Sephiroth. As I said: A mere flesh wound."_

000X000

Genesis brushed a strand of silver off of Sephiroth's face. His friend and rival lay still as death, bruises budding upon the pale flesh of his throat. Only the steady rise-and-fall of the younger man's chest assured him that he was alive. He supposed that it would take more than a little strangulation to kill a WEAPON, but the fact that Guardian had assaulted the helpless SOLDIER General had done more than ruffle Genesis' feathers. It infuriated him…it was an insult that branded him to the core.

A shiver of barely restrained anger rippled through his body, and then, he resigned himself to sigh.

"_My friend, the fates are cruel. There are no dreams…No honor remains. The arrow has left the bow of the Goddess_." The words fell off his lips almost instinctively, but as soon as they were uttered, they were forgotten, slipping through Genesis' desperate grip with the oily ease of an eel. "I am sorry, Sephiroth. For everything…If it were not for my jealousy…my anger…my foolish actions…I…" He pursed his lips, the clumsy apology cut short. Had it not been for his stay at Minerva's side, the thought of apologizing would have been a ridiculous one. He would have blamed everything on other people and never reflected on the sins he himself committed.

Carefully, Genesis laid a hand over Sephiroth's, twining their fingers almost intimately. Touch had been a forbidden thing, when Sephiroth was awake and well. A childhood spent in the laboratory had made him an aloof, standoffish and lonely individual. For he was just a child when he was sent to war. Just a child when he ascended the ranks to General. And he was just a child still, if one were to look at things a certain way.

He hated touch. He hated any form of intimacy. There were even times when Genesis believed Sephiroth hated human beings in general. But in moments of weakness, he had seen the neglected, lonely child within and had given Sephiroth what he needed in the simplest of ways. Companionship. The General would often bark orders for Genesis to leave or make snide, caustic remarks…but they both had known it was a ruse…a plea for help.

When he tried to chase everyone away, it was up to Genesis and Angeal to stick close and smother him with their presence. It was up to them to reassure Sephiroth that he was not alone…that there was somebody out there who was not out to hurt him. That there was someone he could trust and be weak around.

By abandoning ShinRa and in turn, Sephiroth…it had been the ultimate betrayal of that trust.

Now, here was attempting to patch their fragile friendship together again whilst the other man was unconscious.

_'Coward,'_ Genesis shuddered and bowed his head.

000X000

_Blood…so much blood. Everywhere. On the ground. On his hands. Staining his skin._

_ Sephiroth groaned, his fingers digging deep into the mud beneath him. His shoulders were bowed forwards; his palms flat, weight resting upon them; his knees were spread for balance. Masamune lay abandoned in the filth like a child's forgotten toy. Pain seared through his entire body, radiating from a thick line down one shoulder blade. _

_ Crimson dripped to the ground before him._

_ Eyes of green clamped shut._

_ Heavily, his burden rested against his spine. The inky appendage drooped, feathers gleaming wetly. The fact that he had a wing barely registered in Sephiroth's pain addled mind. _

_ He attempted to rise to his feet, but gravity held him down…pulled him deeper into the cold mud. Soon the sludge reached past his wrists…then his elbows…as he sank deeper, the earth swallowing his form up to tilted shoulders and hips, Sephiroth struggled futilely for freedom. _

_ At some point he began to pump his wing. But that did not help him. The Planet had Her grip on him. She was not letting him go. _

_ Mud filled his mouth and nose, suffocating him…then he was blind. _

_ Darkness. Blissful, numb, darkness…_

_ Then light. _

_ Sephiroth cringed as the faint glow of dusk poured over him. _

_ And he laid there, motionless, staring blankly up. Even when clouds gathered, the threat of a storm heavy in the air. The rain felt good against his skin. It felt cleansing, as if it were washing away his past along with the blood and dirt. _

_ Before he could question why he was here, the scene changing yet again._

000X000

Cloud watched with rapt interest as the young couple that had taken shelter in the church the previous evening, exchanged vows of union. It hurt terribly to see such familiar faces and know that they were not whim he wanted them to be. They were different people wearing the skin of those he had failed to protect.

Aerith and Zack.

He kept telling himself that this green-eyed girl with her cream pale skin and brunette hair was not the flower girl who sacrificed her life for the Planet, her blood pooling beneath her as Sephiroth's blade pierced her kneeling form. And that this blue-eyed boy, with his wild tangle of black hair, restless energy and infectious smile was not the same one whom faced an entire army in the name of honor, and to save the life of a kid he barely knew, only to die on the cliffs of Midgar while staring up at a weeping sky.

"In the eyes of the Goddess, you are now bound as husband and wife," Rena announced, as the ceremony wound to a close. Slowly, she tied a red ribbon around the couple's wrists, and the pair curled the fingers of their joined hands together. "May you have many years of happiness together." Zack—no, not Zack—grinned and cast an enamored look at his blushing bride. They both wore traveling clothing, but the girl had white flowers braided into her hair, a symbol of her blooming into womanhood through this union.

As soon as their eyes met, the pair leapt into each other's arms and kissed without prompting.

Rena laughed softly.

The tall, brooding stranger that vaguely resembled Zack—no _not_ Zack—whom had been observing the ceremony from the front most pew, stopped his brooding for a moment and smiled. Genuine pride sparkled in the older man's eyes.

Cloud…he felt a weight drop in his gut. Five-hundred years worth of suppressed guilt assaulted him. He should have saved them. They should have found their happiness and been together a long time ago. Maybe the world would have been different if they had lived…or maybe he would have lost them all the same.

But still…why? Why now? Why had they come here of all places?

"It is a great honor to have the renowned Guardian oversee our union." It was Aerith's voice…but the speaker was not Aerith. But she was…Cloud's head was starting to spin with conflict. "Does the Planet approve of…us?" She glanced at the ribbon that joined her and her husband together at the wrist.

"Gaia yes!" Cloud blurt out. He quickly regained his calm, and glanced away. "It's…been a long time in coming."

"Really?" Zack—Gaia damn it, he was Zack!—piped in, bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly. "You mean, this was supposed to be? As in destined."

"You're soul mates." Cloud murmured, unable to remain in the presence of these copies any longer. He walked away without another word, four pairs of eyes searing into his back.

000X000

_"Sephiroth."_

_ He was on his knees yet again, unable to stand. The world around him was a swirl of mako-colored ribbons, and before him stood a creature that could only be defined as divine. Sephiroth knew it instinctively…this was the protector of the Lifestream, the Goddess, Gaia, Minerva…the sentient, spiritual embodiment of the Planet of whom had many names. _

_ She stood nearly twelve feet tall, possessed eyes that shone like liquid energy, and was clad entirely in gold armor. Her helm was winged and ornate, long blond hair fell in a cascade from beneath; in one hand she held a massive shield and in the other a sword that doubled Masamune in length as well as tripled in breadth. _

_"Spawn of Jenova. I should smite thee where you kneel," Her voice was nonjudgmental as well as accusing, spoken as well as sung. "I should rid all memory of your existence." The silver-haired warrior wanted to say something, anything, in his defense, but he found himself mute. "But Calamity would still poison the soul of memory. She would seek a new host."_

_ The Goddess stared at him, the weight of Her gaze like that of a mountain. _

_ Just listening to Her speak was crushing, but to have her eyes upon him was almost too much for him to handle. Sephiroth found his breathing becoming ragged and he trembled violently against the urge to collapse into an unconscious heap on the floor. _

_ "You have imprisoned Calamity within your form for a long time, Sephiroth." The Goddess murmured,"You and she are almost One. Jenova can overtake your mind and use your body…your souls are intermixed." She lifted Her sword. "Do you wish to live, Sephiroth?"_

_ Even if he could have spoken, he was uncertain if he would have said yes._

_ "Swear yourself to me," She commanded._

_ "I—I…I swear…" the oath was forced. They both knew it. Sephiroth's remaining pride was too great for him to surrender what remained of himself willingly. But the Goddess was all-powerful. A true force of divine nature. She could play with his strings and make him a helpless marionette, all it would take was a thought. _

_ The sword in the Goddess' hands came to rest between his shoulders._

_ "Then sleep, my son."_

_ Son? Sephiroth peeked up curiously, only to find his entire body alight with a new wash of pain. He fell at last and writhed on the floor, his limbs jerking erratically, a scream torn from his throat._

_ "Sleep," the Goddess bid, soothingly. "I shall purge you of your humanity and make you mine, child." Her words made no sense. Why would She purge him of his humanity? If She did that, then all that would remain would be Jenova! Sephiroth wanted to protest. He wanted to fight back. He wanted the pain to stop! But instead, his world went dark and he fell into a blissful slumber._

000X000

Genesis found himself half-asleep as he remained by Sephiroth in a silent vigil. Their hands were still touching, their breathing slow. Thus when Sephiroth's quickened, and his grip tightened around Genesis' fingers, the SOLDIER nearly leapt upwards in surprise.

The silver-haired swordsman began to shudder and twitch, obviously in great pain.

Then, his eyes shot open, alight with mako glow and he threw himself to the side. Genesis leapt out of his chair and placed his hands on his friend's shoulder in an attempt to keep the man from hurling himself off of the bed and hurting himself further.

Long fingers curled around the auburn SOLDIER's forearm, cutting off nonexistent circulation. Genesis grunted and continued to hold Sephiroth down as the man struggled almost manically.

Then, that starved, weak frame began to convulse, almost as if he were having a seizure, before arching dramatically. Sephiroth, whom had been practically silent through this affair, suddenly screamed and the sound of ripping flesh and cracking bone filled the room. Genesis held his breath. And less than a minute later, seven crooked appendages burst forth from the silver-haired man's back. Blood and feathers were scattered everywhere.

Genesis could not help but stare.

His friend. His rival. The man he believed was the hero of legend spoken of long ago. Was awake, shivering, and possessed more wings than an archangel. Wings which were blacker than night, with the exception of one. It was dwarfed compared to the others, and it fluttered weakly, but it was white as winter snow…though splattered with blood and tissue.

"W—where? Who?" Sephiroth rasped, his gaze focusing on Genesis. "G-gen?" The auburn SOLDIER nodded, aware that the man likely didn't realize that he had shortened his name.

"Shhh." Genesis crooned, uncertain what to do. "Sleep."

"N-no…no more sleep. Pain." Sephiroth groaned.

The auburn-haired man sighed and took a step back, aware of his intimate proximity to the silver-haired male. It was awkward now that Sephiroth was awake…and had just sprouted wings. What exactly was he supposed to do?

"Sephiroth." Genesis whipped around at the sound of the blond Guardian's voice. The man looked positively lethal, his eyes like chips of ice and his posture radiating the primal urge to kill. This was not the cool, collected figure whom treated the world with distant disdain…no, this was the WEAPON. This was the creature whom sough violence against a man whom he had deemed done him an unforgivable wrong.

He would try to kill Sephiroth, again.

Genesis took a ready stance and dared the other WEAPON silently to make the first move.

"W-where? Who?" Sephiroth murmured.

"I will not allow any more harm to come to him."

"He is a monster."

"He is a good man." Genesis snapped, his wing flexing in an aggressive manner.

"You do not know what he has done."

Genesis shook his head,"I know enough."

The Guardian regarded him with those strange eyes of his for a long while. Then, with a snort of disgust, he turned and walked away, slamming the door behind him as he was prone to do. The auburn-haired SOLDIER stared at the doorway for a while, half-expecting the blond to return…but when Sephiroth let out a grunt of pain, he turned his attention back onto his friend.

Despite his emaciated state and his freely bleeding wounds (Wait, blood? Why did Sephiroth still have blood? Why was he still bleeding?), Sephiroth was attempting to prop himself up onto his hands and knees.

"You should not do that quite yet, old friend." Genesis murmured, hurrying over to his side like a loyal hound…just as he should have done so many years ago.

**tbc**

**A/N: ( Yup. Sephy is awake now. Gen-Gen is being protective. And Zack and Aerith have finally gotten married. Just remember, this is not a Sephiroth/Genesis fic or a Cloud/Sephiroth/Genesis fic. Genesis' behavior is that of a guilty and concerned friend. Consider the fact that, if someone you knew was unconscious at the hospital, you would likely touch/hold their hand. Especially if they were a close friend or family member. )**


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**I would like to thank everyone who reviewed or added this story to their alerts and/or favorites! Thank you so much, it is you who keeps me writing!**

**A/N: **Installment eighteen!

**Rating (Chapter): T**

**Words: **2,344

**Summary: **Living forever is a blessing and a curse, one that strips away everything that once defined you. After 500 years and his share of tribulation, Cloud Strife stands as the immortal guardian of human kind. Will a prayer answered and a crisis' emergence, give rise to the only thing he ever desired? CloudxSephiroth. Alternate Universe. M-PREG. Dark.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters; I am merely abusing them for my entertainment and for the entertainment of others.

**Guardian**

**By Catsitta**

**Chapter seventeen:**

Rena sat quietly in the garden. The evening air was cool and the occasional breeze hinted of colder days to come. Soon, snow would fall and blanket the land in white…The Planet always looked beautiful cloaked frost, even if the weather became bitter and unforgiving. Everything about Her was dual-natured, even the seasons…especially winter.

So pretty and fragile, quiet and innocent…yet unrelenting and deadly…devastating yet promising of rebirth.

Tearing her gaze from the yellowing leaves of the perennials, Rena settled umber eyes upon the feather in caught between her hands. It was an inky black instead of a deep crimson…and her skin was smudged with blood where it had come in contact with it. The healer could not help but draw in a shuddering breath. Unlike the feathers that Crimson tended to shed (usually in frustration these days rather than due to illness), this one made her entire body shiver with dread.

Flashes of war and death flickered in her mind's eye. The Planet chanted of Calamity, Jenova, and virus. Unlike in the Crimson WEAPON, the ancient evil was not dormant. She was not overcome and controlled by her host. No…Jenova was very much alive in her chosen son. She and he, two beings whose essences once sang in harmony, now sang in union. The line between the man and the monster was not simply blurred, it no longer seemed to exist, it was as if they were phased together on a spiritual level—overlapping each other to the point of eclipse.

What did this mean? Why would the Planet return Jenova's son if She had not destroyed the Calamity? In fact, it was as if She had turned the human into the living virus herself and then claimed him as Her son. Jenova…as a WEAPON. What crisis could be so great that She was willing to preserve Calamity in its entirety? Keeping Silver WEAPON was understandable; the man was a tactical genius and SOLDIER General in his age of greatness. He was the only other creature to ever be on par with the Guardian. But Jenova?

Rena curled her hands around the feather, enclosing it completely within her fingers. Tears she did not realize had gathered curled down her cheeks. When she had found it in the hallway, outside of Sephiroth's room, she had not expected this.

"Gaia preserve me," she murmured,"and give me the strength to keep faith." The healer knew she had to trust Her judgment. After all, Silver was supposed to be the one who would help the Guardian find his happiness…become his mate and give him the family he always desired…one that would not die with the passing of the seasons.

000X000

"We have to go soon." Zack said, his arm looping around Aerith's shoulders. The girl looked up at him with pleading, glistening eyes.

"But this place is so…perfect. Can we not stay a little longer?"

"I have already been away from my duties for too long…"

"…And I from the forge, Brother." The brooding kin of Zack cut in as he approached.

"But…I have this feeling. We need to stay. Can you not sense it?"

Cloud watched and listened as the trio's discussion turned into bickering. The Blacksmith was being stubborn and steadfast, refusing to listen to his brother's little wife. Her tears did not faze him, and he shook his head and crossed his arms in a display of growing impatience. Zack seemed conflicted, torn between love and duty…It was a matter of honor, it always had been with the man, but the right choice was far from clear. He looked between his Brother and lover, nervous energy apparent in his shuffling stance.

Aerith, whom had started crying a while ago, stamped her foot and pivoted sharply away from the two men. Before either could react, she was running. Zack snarled something incomprehensible at his brother before attempting to make pursuit…

The blond swordsman emerged from the shadows in which he had been observing the exchange and intercepted him.

"Hey! Get out of my way." Zack skidded to a halt and attempted to maneuver around the smaller male. Of course, when Cloud held out his arm and clotheslined the raven-haired man in the chest, he stopped, winded.

"Holy shit, that hurt."

"Only for a short while."

Clutching his bruised ribs and plainly nursing his bruised pride, Zack shot Cloud a hard glare. The blond stared blankly back, visibly unimpressed. "Why did you stop me?"

"She needs time alone."

"Huh?"

"I have been alive a long time," Cloud scratched the back of his head in a compulsive manner, old memories seeping to the surface. It had been centuries since he had been the sixteen year old boy trapped in a twenty-one year old SOLDIER's body, whom had assumed the identity of his savior and almost friend as a coping method…"and I happen to know a thing or two about women." 'Especially women like Aerith.'

"Really?"

Cloud nodded,"Your wife is resilient…she could withstand any storm and would be willing to make even the greatest of sacrifices if it meant saving another. But she is also fragile. Treat her with gentle hand and she will blossom…treat her harshly and she will wilt. Give her time. Let her remain here for a while longer."

"But…we have to go home."

"Sanctuary is her home." The blond motioned towards alter where petals and crushed flowers from the wedding ceremony still laid. "Spiritually, physically and emotionally, this is where she belongs and should stay. But that is not how Fate works. The path she walks means she must leave, but not today. Not yet. When she comes to terms with that fact, she will go, not only willingly, but with enthusiasm."

Zack, whom seemed to have recovered from his injury, stared at him with wonder.

"I know this…because it has happened once before. Hopefully, this time, she will live the life she was meant to live rather than…" his words trailed off. Then he shook his head and stepped aside,"That is the past. Now is the future. Go, see your wife. I think she is ready to see you."

The younger male blinked questioningly but grinned a moment later and dashed outside.

'Treat her well,' Cloud thought silently, before his mind returned to more unpleasant things. His hands curled into fists. 'I will not let her die this time around. Sephiroth will not destroy all that I cherish.'

000X000

Blood. So much blood. Too much blood.

Pain. He was in agony.

Sephiroth hissed and panted, his limbs limp at his sides, too strained with fatigue to move another inch. He barely had the energy to remain conscious, and it truly was a conscious effort at this point, since his body was utterly depleted of any reserves. Even breathing felt strenuous. The crushing pressure upon his throat and chest had yet to desist and made every mouthful of air a challenge.

But he had been through worse…right? Right. He simply had to keep telling himself that Hojo had done worse to him before and that he had survived then, so there was no reason to believe he was dying now.

"Sephiroth." he kept hearing Genesis' voice and seeing glimpses of black and crimson. The man was dead. He knew because he watched the man die amidst his betrayal. His feverish mind caused by blood loss was making him imagine things. After all, even if Genesis were alive, he would start a blistering argument or quote LOVELESS…right? "Sephiroth, it's alright. Sleep, old friend."

No. He could not sleep. Sleep meant dreaming and dreaming meant nightmares. No more…

From somewhere in his chest, a scream built and tore free. He had not been in so much pain since Nibelhiem when "Mother" tore his conscious mind in two. But then, he could escape from the agony deep within the recesses of his mind. Now it seemed that his mental state was all too fragile and his will power frayed. Sephiroth knew it was pathetic, but he wanted to curl up and cry…he hadn't done so since he was a child, but by Gaia! Everything was too much.

A cool cloth touched his brow, but it did little to dampen the heat that consumed him.

What he wouldn't do for a mere minute without pain…

"What are you doing in here?" Genesis demanded, though Sephiroth did not know why.

A voice, both familiar and alien to him replied,"I…I'm not sure myself. I simply know that I need to be here."

Emerald eyes alight with the ethereal glow of the Lifestream filled Sephiroth's mind's eye. Who was this girl? Why did her presence numb the hurt?

Genesis visibly bristled, his wing ruffling like that of an indignant crow. Why did his imaginary incarnation of his friend include the blighted wing that marked all of Jenova's spawn? Without any other visible signs of degradation, the wing should not exist…not on Genesis at least. But who was he to claim to know all about the effects of Jenova on another's body? After all, he was the one with at least a half-dozen extra appendages that he prayed to the Goddess were figments of his imagination.

"I can help him," the girl insisted, though she did not sound certain.

"You can do nothing." Genesis was always quick to retaliate and slow to trust. At least that had not changed…

"Please, at least let me try."

Despite himself, Sephiroth let out a low groan. While the newcomer's presence lessened the ache, it was far from gone. He could not seem to catch his breath or lift his arm, no matter how hard he tried.

"Very well," the auburn-haired SOLDIER conceded and the girl rushed close. Brunette hair fell in a rippled cascade over her shoulders she reached his bedside. Old memories, his own but not quite, swelled to the surface and crashed down over him.

He saw a young woman clad in pink kneeling before an alter. Dainty hands calloused from the trials of life were folded together and he head was bowed. He could feel the intensity of her prayers and the potency of her faith. The Lifestream pulsed through her veins like blood, nourishing her body as her spirit reached into the depths of the soul of memories. She was calling Holy…and he was there to stop her. Sephiroth could only watch from afar as his body, controlled by Jenova's corrupting influence, dropped from above, sword bare and poised…

Blood. Dead. Innocent sacrifice.

He was her murderer.

Small hands cupped his face and with but three words, she stole away his pain and sent him spiraling into a dreamless sleep.

"I forgive you."

000X000

Genesis watched with morbid fascination as the young woman whom had so blatantly intruded, caressed the mangled mess that was Sephiroth's weak and broken form. She seemed unbothered by the blood and after a cursory check of the silver-haired warrior's injuries, she cradled his face and whispered something to him. The convulsions ceased and pain-filled eyes fluttered shut…then the world seemed to explode with riveting music.

The Planet was answering the call of its mortal daughter. Who was this girl? How did she hold such power?

She pulled away just before the door swung open yet again, revealing a frantic looking Zack.

"I was looking everywhere for you!" he scrambled forwards and pulled his young wife into his embrace.

"Love, why are you wet?"

Now that she mentioned it, Zack was rather soaked…

"It's raining outside…don't know how since there isn't a cloud in the sky…but what are you doing in here? Who is he?" the raven-haired man glanced pointedly at Genesis then at Sephiroth,"What's wrong with him? Are those wings?"

"Shush. No more questions," the girl scolded, tapping the vivacious man on the nose. "I am here because I needed to be. And because I realized that I needed to forgive the demons in my past…personally…before I could rest easy again."

"What are you talkin—?" Zack began, but his wife pulled him from the room and he followed obediently, like a well-trained puppy. Some things never change, even after death it seems.

Elsewhere, while two WEAPONs and two lovers conversed and were lost in the confusion. Cloud stood in the rain, his heart aching in ways that an immortal's heart should not. It had been centuries since he had last heard that song and felt the kiss of this healing rain. Great Gospel, Aerith had called it, a blessing that cured all ills except for death and was capable of washing Jenova from existence.

All around him, plants that were withering as they do in the fall, became green again and some of the trees even bore fruit in mere seconds. It defied all logic…but at the moment, Cloud did not need logic. He needed answers and strength.

First things first, however…

Upon feet that did not seem to be his own, the blond walked over to a small copper bowl resting upon a crumbled stone pillar. A bird bath, Rena had called it when she created the thing. Now it was brimming with healing water. For a long while he stared into the crystalline depths of the bowl, catching fragments of his reflecting upon the surface of the water.

"Forgive and forget," Cloud peered out of the corner of his eye, spying an equally drenched Rena approaching. She held a feather in her hands as white as the new winter snow. "I believe, Guardian, that it is time now for forgiveness. It is the only way you and he will completely heal." Slowly, she guided his hands to either side of the bowl. "It is your decision, but…it is not healthy to hold onto such hate, especially after the passing of so many years."

"You don't know what he did, what he is capable of doing."

"I know enough," Rena murmured,"to know that he is not the same man that he was before."

"How can you be certain?"

"He has changed."

Though for better or for worse, his ward did not specify.

**-tbc-**

**A/N: (Thank you for reading! Please review and check out my latest poll.)**


End file.
